#☆'s wrds

[starvingwiththestars]

gonna diy my top surgery :3

[ankhlesbian]

Why does everyone hate delicious in dungeon as the official english name so much

[svckpuppy]

grls we r failin out of uni

[euphausia]

https://x.com/supergoober69/status/1845368045578990065?s=46&t=uz6qjK0adnrfMsAMLTRqTw

even realer…

wht the.. who taught thm tht?? #corruption . tag yourself tho im shit

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐞” •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

synopsis: asking sylus to be more rough with you…don’t do it again.

tags: rough, spanking, edging, manhandling, creampie, degradation, explicit, vulgar, doggystyle, tears, etc.

wrd cnt: 0.9k

a/n: this one was sitting in the drafts for like a bajillion years i think

You learned your lesson now, don’t ever tell Sylus to be more rough.

It’s not like he can’t be, or doesn’t want to; because fuck does he want to.

It was for your own well being that he didn’t go too far.

So let’s say it’s your fault he’s absolutely destroying you right now, your face pushed down onto the pillow while his other hand grips tightly on your hip.

“Sy-lus…wait!” You plead, your cheek squished onto his silk pillowcase while you beg for him to slow down, only to hear a deep, rich, almost mocking laughter.

“Don't tell me you're crying already Kitten? You wanted me to rough you up a bit, what’s wrong now?” He says, his voice not far away from a growl.

You can only cry into the sheets, feeling his throbbing cock stretching out your walls as he pounded you in so hard there was sure to be a dent in the mattress. Your walls would remember the stretch and think only of him. He was ruining you for anyone else.

“Please- S-slow down…” You mewled, juices spraying out and coating your clit as it drips down, teardrop shapes sure to stain the sheets.

With a tsk, Sylus pulled out of you, the sudden change making your body scrunch up slightly.

“A complacent thing like you doesn’t deserve my cock.” He spouts, leaving a hard smack on your ass and flipping you over. He takes your wrists in one hand, pulling them above your face and pinning you while his other cups your face harshly.

“Or maybe you want me to be even more rough? Ignoring your little pleas. “Is that it, sweetie?”

Truthfully you didn’t even know what you wanted right now, but the way he was throwing you around and speaking to you made everything inside you grow more warm and wanting.

So he made the decision for you, gently smacking your face like he wanted you more awake, on your toes l, before giving you a command.

“Up. Get on all fours. You know better than to disobey, don't you?”

You knew what was good for you, apparently not when you first asked Sylus to be rough, but you knew to not push him anymore.

You weakly crawl up, palms and knees smooth against the slippery sheets.

“Good. Spread your legs a little more, let me see how messy you are down here.” He says, clearly on a mission to embarrass you.

You hesitate but only for a second, spreading your knees farther and arching your back down to give him a good view.

“Mhmm, good girl,” He coos, taking his thumb and pressing it into your slit, letting your arousal drip out with every small press; making you clench your hole around nothing.

“This pussy is so needy…and you want me to stop? Look at you. Such a pathetic little thing.”

You shudder at his words, pushing your ass back to feel more of his thumb inside you.

But that wasn’t smart. He pulled out of you, licking his finger with a pop sound leaving his mouth.

“You want more? You were just begging me to slow down, make up your mind.” He says harshly, leaving no room for any negotiations.

“Tell me what you want.” He says hastily to bridge your silence, giving your ass a harsh slap to break it.

“W-want you to fuck me more Sy…” You say quietly, your ears heating up at how embarrassing that was to say out loud.

“Louder” Sylus takes a wack at your ass again, leaving a red mark of his hand.

“More- Please!” You squeal, your eyes shut and in recovering of his harsh treatment on your body.

Without a warning, he pulls your ankles toward him, making you fall face down onto the bed; dragging your lower half to dangle off the edge as you feel hour two feet slightly touch the hardwood as he pushes on your lower back; keeping your chest pressed into the bed and your rear against his cock, eager to pummel into your waiting walls.

“Why are you shaking kitten? I haven’t even done anything yet.” He says, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your folds, sadistically poking it in and out of your hole.

“But youre right, you should be scared.” He added, grabbing your arms and pulling them back again to cuff you into position with his large grasp.

“Are you ready?” He asks, putting up a loving front before he rams his cock into you when he hears you speak another “wait!”.

You cry out, his cock kissing the deepest parts inside your velvet folds over and over at a speed you’ve never felt before.

“You’re crying again honey? You’re squeezing on me so tight…I think you like this.” He says, laughing softly as he speeds up, even as he’s fucking you on the end of the bed the bedframe starts to hit the wall with each thrust.

“Sylus-! Fuck…I-I’m gonna cum…” You whimper out, your throat dry from your moans.

“You better.” He threatens. “You’ll cum and you’re going- to. thank. me.” He says sternly, giving you a hard thrust after each word; pushing you over the edge.

You cry out, feeling the bubbling knot in your stomach tighten before coming completely snapping.

“Fuck-Sy…Sylus! T-Thank you…thank you-!” You repeated over and over, like a chant to your god.

He barely stopped, still thrusting into you, making sure you learn your lesson.

Only a few moments go by before he reached his own high, before you felt it.

He hopes you know this isn’t your last orgasm of the night.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[todosdream]

stress relief | ony

15k wrds. strangers to friends? to lovers. slow burn. plot with smut. fem black oc. see the moodboard.

warnings: MNDI! lots of profanity, usage of n word, pet names, mentions of weed; smut: unprotected sex (PLS BE SAFE), edging, a spank or two, naaasty talk, degradation? more like brat-taming, dacryphilia for two seconds, ony rightfully has a bbc, begging, ony’s a talker (duh), choking? really just a hand necklace, pussydrunk ony, lowkey d/s but not explicitly mentioned

additional #: oc needs to get laid fr. kt needs her headphones. becca needs a new job. author doesn’t box. shout out mrs. etta. ony is chalanting with a girl for the first time. (and he’s vibing with it.) oc really needs to get laid. oc is a bit bratty… sorry. ony needs to get off his ass. oc is actually very bratty, damn. oh hell, oc gets laid!

“girl, I’ma be real with you… you need some dick,” crystal’s best friend tells her through her screen. kt’s giving a look, an interesting mix of pity and annoyance. her knotless braids are framing her face, mocha skin radiant as always but lashes looking quite barren. “yeah, and you need a lash refill, ho,” crystal snorts. since she’s bringing up needs and shit. it’s unfortunately been a while since they’ve hung out, kt now visiting family in colorado for about a week.

being the type of friends they are, the both of them have no issue communicating through tiktoks and sending pictures of silly things. just yesterday kt sent a picture of herself holding up a peace sign with a joint between her lips. she stood next to a 'no smoking' sign, the ‘no’ smudged. she thought she was just so clever. crys in return sent a saved picture of an unimpressed squidward, a typical exchange between the two goofballs.

“yeah, okay, ho. I’m just saying. maybe you’d be a little nicer to me if you got some,” she rolls her eyes, giving yzma. her rescheduled lash appointment can’t come quick enough. “says the girl getting some every day and still being mean to me,” crys scoffs.

kt’s living with her boyfriend, expecting his title to change to fiance after feeling a certain anticipatory energy from the man. her time consists of working and chatting with friends, and being with and posting videos with her partner. crys, however, explores her free time in many ways. picking up hobbies that have about a 50% chance of sticking, trying different restaurants, teaching her dog funny tricks, and the occasional friend hangout. it’s friday night and she’s doing her own nails just for the hell of it. although the uninhibited girl’s words trigger an automatic negative response, crys knows why she’s speaking them. when the phone call ends, kt will turn over and cuddle up to her man, maybe ‘get her shit rocked’ as she likes to so delicately put it. crys, however, will be left with her dog, her empty home and bed, and whichever toy she vibes with for the night.

she likes being alone, it’s an accomplishment for her to feel confident and comfortable being single after wasting her time with people that don’t care, men that don’t even actually like her. but when it’s all said and done, people are meant for connection. of course platonic, family, community… but that pull? that yearning? it can’t be replicated, no matter how many times she rewatches bridgerton or insecure.

it’s been a while since she just let go with anyone other than those already close to her. the last time she let someone new in, he showed her exactly why ‘niggas ain’t shit’ is such a popular phrase. it was a situation that didn’t make any sense, and in retrospect, she cringes. the embarrassment, the useless attempts at communication, the settling… never again. however, that’s a part of her life that’s being fully neglected. no dates, no late night rendezvous, no flirting, no sex.

one word: cobwebs.

“why are you more worried about my coochie than I am, anyway?” crys jokes as she fixes her gel polish, deflecting the conversation. it’s not something she wants to discuss or harp on. that’s just life for her right now. she’s tired of people wasting her time, so she became unavailable. simple. plus, she knows kt’s nosy ass man is lying next to her and listening because that girl never wears her damn airpods. “you think that’s an insult? girl. that only makes you look bad, not me,” she sasses. crys hears a soft snicker in the background. “oh, fuck you,” the girl mumbles in response. “and will you please put headphones on the next time you decide to go talkin’ bout my coochie? cause I’ll happily tell all those stories about yours, pimp.”

“stories?” crys hears in the background of the call. “ain’t no way she just called you that. what the hell that mean, crystal?” the bestie purses her lips and squints at crys. she watches as the brown skinned girl tilts her head, making her curls flop to the side with a ‘gotcha’ look. “I know where you live, you know that, fo’head? have a good night with your vibrator, ho,” she speaks lowly. shuffles are heard as she drops the phone onto the duvet next to her. “she don’t mean that, pookie, she’s just all pent up.” kt’s middle finger is all that’s visible on the screen before the phone echos a tone a few times, indicating the end of the call. crys snorts in response and sits her phone to the side. she sighs, looking over her nails for any imperfections as her mind echoes her words.

she wouldn’t be opposed to a night in the sheets. it’d be nice to dust off the cobwebs. get some head, maybe get her shit rocked like she hasn’t had in a while. part of her wants the slow and sensual, romantic sex with someone special. the kind of sex that touches her soul, that you can feel on every level. the other part… well. that part stays right in the cage where it belongs. that part likes to drown in frisky pleasure even if the one giving it is a life source draining leech.

it’s normal to want pleasure, it’s human. but the thought of all the bullshit that comes with dealing with another human, let alone a man in this day and age is enough to make her reconsider taking that step. so like usual, she brushes the words off and refocuses on her spa day so that she can be at her best for the work week.

ᥫ᭡

despite her best efforts, the next week is particularly irritating. mercury must be doing her shit, maybe all the damn planets, because so many people have had wack ass attitudes and it’s rubbed crys wrong. terrible interactions with customers, coworkers called out and left her in a busy store with little help, and she broke a nail doing something very much so not in her job description. on top of that, the amount of random things outside of her control that have gone haywire is deeply irritating. her tv crapped out and decided to just stop working out of nowhere, her wifi is out for local renovations, and her trash can is missing.

again.

it’s a wonder she hasn’t either had some type of crash out or just cashed in her pto for a fucking break. instead, she decides to get dressed for the gym and puts on a purple workout set. if she wants to be cute and sweaty she damn well will be. she grabs her favorite gym shoes and her essentials. she leaves her curls alone for now, but takes a scrunchie to put it up later. when she gets to the gym at a completely different time than she’s used to, it’s practically empty, save for a young and obviously bored receptionist that’s glued to her phone and a middle aged woman power walking into her destiny.

seriously, crys will have some of what she’s having. the woman is on fire.

sighing to herself, the frazzled girl goes to scan her member qr code, only for the damn scanner to decide to stop working. the blonde receptionist behind the desk sighs as if doing her job is the last thing she wants to do. crys usually wouldn’t blame her for that, but the way she’s popping her gum has the curly headed girl imagining a modern re-enactment of that one scene from that madea movie. the receptionist seems to be in absolutely no rush to fix the scanner, completely oblivious to the metaphorical cloud over crys’ head that’s growing by the minute. she fights the urge to furrow her brows and take a week’s worth of irritation out on the worker, deciding to take a deep breath instead.

the brief look up that the girl gives in response has her immediately regretting her decision.

before she can even think of something to say, the door opens behind her. she’s in no mood to look at the person, figuring they’ll both be waiting in line. she doesn’t want to seem open to small talk because she’s just not. however, the receptionist— becca, her nametag reads— looks up like the sun just graced the sky for the first time in centuries. she stands up straighter, obviously trying to make herself look like she’s doing the job that she’s been failing at, and calls over crys’ shoulder. “hey, ony, technical difficulties. you’re free to go ahead you don’t have to wait, I can check you in once this is fixed,” she smiles. that lucky bastard. it’s the first smile on her face in the entire time the bristling girl has been there. crys swears if this was a cartoon scene, the blonde girl would be fluttering her lashes with hearts in her eyes.

there’s a deep chuckle from behind. “thanks, becca. they should give you a raise,” a low, raspy voice responds. crys’ eye twitches. the hell they should, she thinks. hand me the damn performance review form cause I got shit to say. becca, now looking as if she’s on cloud nine, waves him off dismissively. “just doing my job. leg day?” she questions, trying to sound as casual as possible and not like her drool is threatening to ruin the damn scanner beyond repair. “mhm,” the stranger hums. “nice kicks,” he mumbles.

crys is too busy zoning out and imagining herself tap dancing on the broken pieces of the scanner to realize that he’s talking to her. the way becca’s eyes shift gets her attention. “oh. uh, thanks,” she murmurs, looking up. all she sees is a muscular back walking towards the men’s locker room. she doesn’t have time to look him over because ms. becca decides she actually can do her job and calls out to her that the scanner is fixed.

it just needed to be plugged up again.

ain’t no fuckin’ way.

becca doesn’t even seem embarrassed. she’s holding the scanner lazily and looking around, probably for that ony guy. the blonde doesn’t realize that crys is holding her phone out, and she’s still popping that damn gum. instead of saying something to the girl like she really wants to, she grabs the scanner from the “worker” to check her damn self in and quickly heads to the locker room. the girl doesn’t deserve her week’s worth of anger.

after some time, she’s finally out on the floor to stretch out. soon after the warm up, she’s at the punching bag. it’s not her usual choice of workout, but she took classes when she was younger and knows it’s a great way to release all that irritation from the week in a more physical outlet.

crys quickly wraps her hands and soon she’s throwing punches and listening to rico nasty, an artist who has several tracks on her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist. she gets into her groove, trying to remember the important tips from the classes she attended years ago. it’s hard to recall all the basics, but she gives it her best shot. not too long after, she notices a shadow of someone’s frame behind her. it must be that lucky asshole from earlier, probably here to be a bother. or maybe becca decided to do her job and came to tell her to move her bag off the floor. she sighs, taking out her headphones and turning to look. it’s the stranger. the man’s arms are crossed as he watches, showing his sleeves of tattoos.

crys wishes she could say he was ugly, but he’s definitely not. he’s fine as fuck, actually. his skin is dark and healthy, making him look like he actually has a skincare routine and not just 100-in-one soap. he has an athletic build visible even through his clothes that makes her want to drool like dear old becca. he’s tall, maybe 6’4 or 6’5, so she has to look up at him, even being on the taller side herself. his black durag matches his all black workout fit and she wonders what exactly lies underneath considering the size of his arms.

his demeanor is calm and steady, confident in a way that’s quiet, as opposed to many other gym bros™. his face is calm and there’s barely any tension in his body. crys thinks she’d like to make him bothered, just to get a rise. see if he’ll hold ip or bite back. but no, that’s rude, and she doesn’t know this man at all. his eyes are looking at her intently, and she despises how beautiful they are. why do men get to have natural lashes that look like that? it’s not fair she has to get extensions when his are so long with an almost perfect curl. and the color of his eyes make it worse, the light brown contrasting his dark skin so prettily. and his lips? full, perfect for kissing, among other things.

lucky bastard.

“you gone bite my head off if I suggest how to fix your form?” he asks with a simple raise of his brow.

ᥫ᭡

ony’s a hardworking man. he likes to handle business but have some fun on the side too. he’s chill. everyone would describe him as that. he’s the levelheaded friend, usually the calm in a storm, and not one to be all over the place physically, mentally, or emotionally. he’s a steady beat and he likes it that way. life is peaceful and secure, challenging in certain ways, but calm in others. he has a good paying job as a personal trainer, proper work life balance, and a good head on his shoulders. he doesn’t do too much, honestly, but that doesn’t mean that his life doesn’t have some interesting twists and turns. his boys always seem to need rescuing in some form, sisters all a whirlwind of their own. his mom is always a source of entertainment, although his dad is much like himself. he likes his life, simple as that.

but things have been becoming monotonous lately. his clients aren’t having any interesting developments and his social life is steady but uninteresting overall. his family group chat is going through a quiet spell and his boys are actually not up to anything stupid like they somehow always are. he’s been particularly unfulfilled by the game and there’s no sport he wants to keep up with as of late. it’s all kind of… blah. he’s grateful that nothing’s going wrong. he could be having a bad week as opposed to a boring one, but he aches for a spark, something different to bring a bit more color to his life. maybe he should get a pet? maybe some little fish couldn’t hurt. he thinks over the new idea while he follows his usual routine to pack up and leave for the gym.

and then he sees crys.

he notices her form as she stands at the check in desk, interest piqued. he’s never seen her before, and he comes to this gym at least five nights a week. he knows names and faces, especially since there’s usually no more than five people when he comes. her figure catches and keeps his eye, his gaze taking in the woman’s long legs, thick thighs, and plump ass, seeing how her afro falls around her shoulders. his excuse for where his gaze is centered is that it’s all he can see from where he’s standing, but it’s not much of an excuse. she’s just fine as hell. her workout fit is cute and colorful, contrasting his dark and bland one. her hand is in on her hip that’s popped out, accentuating her form.

his interest is definitely piqued.

he gets to see more of her when he comes around to speak to becca. pretty almond eyes, soft looking lips, the bottom currently being chewed with vigor. she’s beautiful… but one look at her profile and the flames in her eyes tell him all he needs to know: look the other way. ony grew up surrounded by strong black women in his life, his mom, sisters, aunts, cousins… learning to read body language and— well, the room, was something he learned quickly and he’s applied that lesson everywhere in life. everything about her body language and that cute, barely contained frown screams bad day. so he greets becca— who’s really a sweet girl, just unbothered— compliments her shoes, and moves on about his routine.

it’s like clockwork. he puts his stuff away, makes sure his chain is safe and secure, fills his water bottle, waves at mrs. etta on the treadmill, stretches, locks in, and gets the workout started.

he’s getting into his mode and enveloping himself in the feel of the workout, but he can’t help the way his eyes are pulled back to crys. the way she stretches, the way she adorably bobs her head to the seemingly… aggressive? music. she’s gorgeous and new, which has him feeling like every routine move he makes is just a little different. her and her angry pout and her curves and her curls…

she approachs a punching bag, which ony can admit he didn’t expect. the outfit convinced him she’d be power walking with mrs. etta, or doing pilates in the corner. his mom always told him what assuming does to someone, though. he looks away as he tries to focus on anything other than her. he counts his reps like usual, trying to submerge himself in his music. it doesn’t work. as soon as she takes her first swing, his eyes are back on her, taking notice of how she punches.

hm.

he can see she knows a bit more than someone just randomly choosing to throw a few hits, but he isn’t fond of some of the habits she has that could actually hurt in the long run. he debates approaching, but he’s always been one to help others in the gym. attitude be damned, he’s a personal trainer. he knows the importance of doing things correctly. after watching for a while, he decides to walk over. he knows that if she doesn’t fix her punch, she’ll be angry all over again tomorrow because of sore wrists. she turns, obviously annoyed, but he’s not scared. she looks him up and down, her facial expression barely shifting. he wonders what she’s thinking, wants to hear her voice. when she finally looks up at him with those eyes, he almost tilts his head.

how can someone be so fuckin’ pretty?

she’s a vision with her bare face. eyes he could get lost in, features he wants to admire for moments on end. he would actually guess that she’s quite sweet behind the haze of her frustration. obviously a multifaceted person, and he’s interested in the idea of learning all those facets. who she is, maybe what she likes, what she doesn’t like. maybe even what makes her happy, what would put a smile on the adorably scrunched up face. for some reason, he wants to see that happy expression. actually, as a matter of fact, he wants to see all her expressions. smiling, confused, relaxed, aroused. she’s caught him with a simple gaze and he’s confused about it.

“you actually know what you’re doing?” she asks. it’s not meant to be a jab, truthfully. she’s been hit on by guys that try to “help” just to flirt, but ultimately make a fool of themselves— and her for giving them the opportunity. she doesn’t have the patience for it today, it in fact might be the straw that breaks her back. she can see amusement tickle at his expression, but no signs of him being offended.

because he’s not. he can tell she isn’t asking in a facetious way, she just seems… tired. like she doesn’t want her time wasted. he can respect that. “I promise you, I do,” he says with a slight smile. just a little one, unable to contain his utter enjoyment in her sass, and still having that almost sickening feeling of attraction.

crys hums, her gaze sweeping over him again briefly, taking in his calm but confident demeanor. the little smile on his face is lowkey pissing her off, but she has enough sense to know it’s because she has a lot of stress to work out. he’s fine as hell and now’s really not the time for all that. even still, he’s bold to come over with the metaphorical storm still rolling above her head. bold… or stupid. who walks towards a burning house? but she knows if he could tell her form was off from so far, she could really be messing herself up with how she’s going at the punching bag. she wants to just kick and punch it randomly, similar to what her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist suggests, but she knows that’s no good. and again, he’s fine as hell.

all the same, she’s still irritated and frustration-filled. “sure, yeah,” she mumbles as she turns back to the bag.

ony’s quite intrigued, interestingly enough. he knows a person close to the brink when he sees one. he can see the irritation in her eyes and in the way her shoulders are set. her movements are stiff and her brows are still pinched, gorgeous even with the possibly dangerous amount of upset toiling in her. despite her tense demeanor, he can tell she’s still at least trying to be respectful. and he appreciates it.

“what’s your name?” he asks, shifting to stand next to her. she’s staring at the bag, itching to just punch. “crys,” she answers, sparing him a glance as she fixes the wrapping on her hands. she’s pulling it tight, her movements swift. she can feel him watching her intently and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.

he nods. “ony. I’m no expert but I can share a few tips to keep you from gettin’ hurt. mind if I touch you?” he asks, the question second nature from dealing with his clients. he knows better than to start without given permission, and he definitely knows he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of her irritation. “s’fine,” she answers, ignoring the very inappropriate response that her brain comes up with. not now, brain. nasty ass. she really just wants him to hurry up so she can go back to punching, but she supposes she can hold back for a few more minutes if it’s him that’s going to touch her. plus it’s important to do it right, and even through her upset she knows that and is grateful for his help. if he could just be a little faster, though, that’d be wonderful.

he approaches, gently taking her hand in his as he unwraps her binding. “it’s a good wrap, but they shouldn’t be too tight. you gone hurt yourself that way,” he mumbles. his hands move slowly, demonstrating to her as he explains. it’s not in the show off-y way she expected, but direct and intentional instead. she’s glad he’s helping but a part of her is focused a bit too much on how his hands feel, how calming his voice is. “you should be able to spread your fingers. this’ll save your wrists and then some, yeah?” he murmurs, gently tapping her hand. still upset, she hates how soothing the contact is. she doesn’t need soothing, she needs violence.

that… might be dramatic. she knows it. but the week’s frustrations have all built to this moment and she plans to take full advantage of the punching bag in front of her. if he doesn’t pick up the pace, he might just take its place, handsome or not. “gotcha,” she mutters. “can I hit the bag now?” ony chuckles, and she’s mad that she really likes the sound. “sure. do a couple jabs.”

she takes a deep breath, her focus zoning on the bag. his presence fades slightly as she begins going at it, a bit overzealous. he lets her take a few punches, seeing how she obviously needs it. his gaze sweeps her form, watching her hips swivel slightly as she swings. her hits start with a decently healthy form, but the more she gets into it, ony can tell her focus is slipping. “okay, hold,” he murmurs. she doesn’t hear him and continues punching. her breathing is picking up and the cute scrunch between her brows is deepening. “hold,” he says louder, getting her attention. she huffs and raises out of her stance, blowing a stray out of her face. she steps forward and holds the bag to stop its movements, looking over at him.

ony could almost laugh at the way the curl flops right back into place. swears he could almost see her eyebrow twitch. damn, who pissed her off? “you got some good habits and some bad habits,” he mumbles, standing parallel to her now. “need to swing your hips more, not push through your arm. pop the bag, don’t push your punch.” he moves slowly as he speaks, demonstrating his words with his movements. it’s easy to follow, but his muscles are stealing the show, to crys’ dismay. “I was doing that,” she mumbles in response because she indeed was. “mhm, at the beginning. the more you put in, the less you focus on your form,” he says as he returns to his earlier position, arms crossed. “go again,” he nods. “bossy,” she mumbles. she likes it. he’s giving proper tips and doesn’t really care about her attitude, seeming unaffected.

ony chuckles, seemingly knowing there’s no actual anger in her tone, at least not completely directed at him. crys supposes he’s right. when she gets in the flow, her mind focuses less on her form and more on the happenings of the week. she definitely could’ve weakened her stance, and his words bring memories of her previous instructor. he might not be an expert, but he knows what he’s saying for sure. she gets back into her stance and takes a few more hits, more focused on her form this time around. she can’t quite lose herself to the exercise with the newfound focus, and she doesn’t like it. “better,” ony calls out. “keep goin’.” so she does. she follows his instructions to a t, feeling a bit more comfortable with the continued form as she practices.

“nice, real nice,” he murmurs, shifting to hold the bag from behind. he notices the hesitation in her movements as she focuses on her form. “come on,” his deep voice encourages. “where that fire go, huh? tellin’ me you can’t fight and focus?” crys, probably feeling goaded, looks up to him for a moment. ony could laugh again at the look in her eyes, but he doesn’t. “don’t look at me, look at the bag. you mad, I know it. let it out,” he nods his head to the bag in his hands. he doesn’t have to tell her twice. she starts to hit with more vigor, putting more into her punches. “mhm, yeah. control that shit, stay tight. swivel your— there you go, exactly,” he encourages. she’s picking it up, movements smoother and becoming more confident by the minute.

shit’s sexy as fuck.

crys is actually starting to fuck with him more, feeling herself in the workout. the way he’s talking is having an affect on her, and she knows she’ll be thinking back on this very moment tonight. his voice is deep, and slightly raspy as she keeps at it, and the encouraging makes her wonder if he’s like that in… different circumstances. she can feel her breath picking up for several reasons. “had you mad as fuck, huh? had you fucked up?” ony questions, pushing her a bit more. “let that shit out, ma. ain’t doin’ you no good to hold it in.” they both know that he’s telling the truth. she was just about bursting at the seams and his encouragement is helping her tap back into that. she punches harder, small grunts falling from her lips. the week’s frustrations are pouring out of her now and she’s pushing herself so that she can get him out of her head.

the way he’s talking to her in her amped up state just shouldn’t be legal. she’s pretty sure he’s the type to talk his girl through it, probably tease and taunt to get a reaction. damn, she needs to get laid. “form,” he reminds as her focus slips. she gives a quick nod, readjusting herself quickly before taking another shot. ony likes how quickly she responds to his guidance. “hell yeah, you got that shit. keep goin’, mama. ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you, that’s for damn sure.”

damn his fine ass with his deep voice and his face and his pet name.

she keeps going until every ounce of upset is drained, listening to his encouragement and occasional shit talking at a particularly weak punch or slip of focus. she’ll be honest, she feels good. great, actually. she feels as if she actually knows what she’s doing, confident in her moves. the upset has trickled away, but its absence is leaving too much space to think about the man in front of her. his fine ass is pushing her in the way she likes and needs, encouraging but taunting just the way she likes it.

after several more minutes, she steps back, panting. “killed that shit,’ ony mumbles, double tapping the bag. she really did, the difference between her earlier attempts and now is stark. and all because of just a few pointers. he watches as she catches her breath and unwraps her hands. “you done?” he questions. he wasn’t expecting her to finish so soon, she was just getting in her groove. he was honestly expecting a few more rounds.

“yeah,” crys answers as she nods. “thanks for your help, really. just needed to blow off some steam.” feeling better now, she decides that she should finish out with her regular workout. the less angry she is, the more she focuses on that damn smirk on his face, the way his muscles move with each shift of his body, the birthmark she’s spotted on his jaw. she’s trying hard to resist the pull she feels as she catches her breath. she gets another chuckle from ony. “could tell. I almost didn’t even come over. bad day?”

crys gives a sheepish smile, sliding her wrap in her bag. ony likes the smile a lot, but he wants more. “my bad. bad week, actually,” the woman responds. ony shakes his head, uncrossing his arms. “no harm, I get it,” he responds. and he really does, most of the time people’s attitudes really have nothing to do with you. “you should keep at it though, you got good form. at least when you’re focused. with some more practice, you could easily make it muscle memory.” and I’d like to see you more, he thinks. crys smiles and nods. “think I will. thanks again for your help, woulda been pissed if I hurt myself.”

ony’s eyes trail over her features. with the metaphorical cloud gone, she’s shining brighter. her smile is gorgeous, revealing a small gap in her teeth and a crinkle by her eyes. yeah. fuckin’ beautiful. “course. can’t have you gettin’ mad again, yeah?” he laughs, the sound deep as it rumbles from his chest. crys playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever, ony. actin’ like I’m godzilla or something. you can gone back to your workout.”

the two separate, continuing their sessions. but their eyes continuously meet as they sneak glances at each other and they exchange flirty quips. crys questions the amount of weight ony chooses for his sets, teasing that she’d thought he’d lift more. ony calls her out for a weak rep, telling her she should start over for half-assing. they just can’t seem to get enough of each other, teasing and poking at one another like crushing kids in school.

crys is definitely eating their interactions up. he’s fun in a way that isn’t childish, regardless of how he makes her almost giddy like a teenage girl. he’s not afraid to go along with a joke, but it’s obvious he’s not one to be messed with. no matter how many shots she takes, no matter how much she teases, he never breaks a sweat. it’s almost as if he’s welcoming the challenge and crys is more than willing to indulge.

ony likes her fire. it’s invigorating and it keeps him on his toes. he’s used to women being like becca— fawning, overly sweet, and obviously interested. the push and tug he gets from crys is different, and he’s enjoying every interaction, every tease, every glance at that ass. she just draws him in and he can’t get enough. where the hell has she been and why are they just now meeting? he could’ve shown her a lot more than boxing tips by now.

for her cool down, crys decides that since the gym is pretty much empty, she can take some extra time to do some yoga and meditation. she zones in and takes a plethora of deep breaths, regulating her nervous system and releasing tension. grounding herself in the present moment and releasing stress, anxiety, and frustration. it definitely helps as a follow up to the punching bag. she’s always appreciated how centered she feels after even just a few minutes of reconnecting with herself, tending to her mind, heart, and soul and not just her body. she should definitely do yoga often to stay balanced, but shoulda woulda coulda.

the second she starts to stretch, ony’s eyes are stuck on her like glue. she stretches for a long time, he notices. it seems like some type of meditation, the way she holds her hands together and closes her eyes, highly focused as she takes deep breaths almost audible where he stands. it’s interesting how he can notice the shift she makes from her earlier demeanor. she’s much calmer, locked in in a way unexpected to him. of course he knows how to calm himself, how to regulate. but those stretches… not only is he sure he could never replicate them due to lack of flexibility, but he can see the intention in each move, seemingly in each muscle and breath.

it’s weird to him how pulled he feels in her direction. he just wants to know her and is curious if she’d give him the chance. and of course he wants to know her body too… he could definitely help her relieve a lot of that stress. over and over again. probably until she couldn’t take anymore. something about her just keeps pulling him back in. maybe he’s just interested in her newness with his life currently feeling a bit more dull, but he knows he’d be just as interested if it wasn’t. she has spice, a good sense of humor, sweetness, she’s undoubtedly beautiful with all her little quirks, and that ass is the kind that a man would go to war for.

seriously.

especially with the way she’s sitting and stretching with her legs wide, chest flush against the floor. it’s making ony have thoughts, and a lot of them. after a while of being unable to stop looking, he decides to walk over. he stands above her with his arms crossed, head tilting as he looks down at her. “how the hell you even doin’ allat?” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. and what else can she do? he wonders.

crys laughs in response, still enjoying the feel of the stretch. “I do it often. years of youtube videos, I guess,” she responds. she raises, intentionally moving slow for the practice. it’s just a bonus that she can feel his eyes on her ass. “sit down,” she grins, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes. he had his turn helping her, and now she’s going to do the same. whether he likes it or not. plus, it’d be real nice to spend some more time with him. she likes his presence and his laugh and his little jokes. his looks, his demeanor, the way he’s not scared when she nips at him instead either remains unaffected or nips right back… kind of everything about him, so far at least. “huh?” he asks, eyebrows raising. “nigga, if you can ‘huh’ you can hear. sit down and stretch with me,” she laughs.

ony likes the sound. a lot, he realizes. and her sass really tickles him. so why not? he shrugs, plopping down on the floor next to her.

“yoga’s more than stretchin’,” she begins. “yeah, it feels good for the body, but it’s good for the mind too. it’s a lot deeper than I can explain. it’s one of those things that’s been taken from another culture and kinda wiped of its authenticity.” he watches her as she talks with her hands, her caring a lot more about it than he expected. but he’s interested and following along with her words. “I try to respect it, y’know? it has a lot of benefits. can I touch?” she asks with a tilt of her head. he appreciates how her curls bounce with the movement and gives a simple nod of his head. “sit up straight,” she adjusts his back. “and keep your focus on your breath, keeping an awareness of your body as well. stay mindful of the present moment.”

the moment her hand touches him, he sits up. not because of her words but because of the feel of her hands on him. she’s gentle with her guidance, her touch almost hesitant and her voice has softened in a way that sends a slight chill down his spine. “sorry, are my hands cold?” she asks apologetically. “as fuck,” he answers with a laugh. “keep goin’ though.” crys laughs and pinches him softly. “aht, aht, I’m the teacher now, I give the directions. straighten out your legs.” ony rolls his eyes in response but follows her instruction. he mumbles a soft “yeah, aight.”

she gently bumps her shoulder against his at his sass. “lean forward and reach for your feet, curving your back. take a moment to center yourself, focusing on your breath and how your body feels. don’t think about anything, not even me,” she teases slightly. ony can’t help but smile at that. “you make it difficult, sweetheart,” he mumbles. her stomach flutters in response. he takes a deep breath before closing his eyes, reaching for his feet. “don’t forget to breath, nice and deep. relax your mind and let your thoughts fade away,” she mutters softly. “relax. really feel the peace and the stretch.”

oh, ony feels something, alright. but he focuses his mind on the way his muscles feel. he’s used to stretching, but the mental part has never been the most important aspect. he likes how quiet his mind is, how the peace envelopes him like a warm hug.

she guides him through several more positions, helping him to stay centered mentally. her voice is so soothing, her touch as she adjusts him doing things to him. he feels good. really good. the combination of the practice with her presence is something he intends to make sure he gets more of. she’s so cute with her little chides. a “stretch deeper, ony” here, a “you’re not even trying” there. and her obvious favorite, “you know you can do better than that”. actually, no, her favorite thing to say in reprimand is his name. it’s a pleasant hint of flirting and teasing mixed with gentle guidance and words of calm.

by the end of the night, ony’s hooked. before she can walk to the locker room, he gently grabs her wrist to get her attention. “hey, wait, ma,” he murmurs softly. she looks up at him with those eyes again and he’s suddenly parched. “can I get your number? you know, I can send you some boxing tips.” crys tries to fight a smile but fails. “oh, really? boxing tips? sure, long as I can send some yoga tips.” he laughs a bit, smiling at her tone. “yeah, send ‘em. gotta be on my namaste more, shit was nice.” crys tilts her head back slightly as she laughs. “boy, whatever. here.”

ᥫ᭡

crys is folding. real bad.

at first, she thought she’d just do some light flirting, maybe just tease and taunt and go on about her merry way. she didn’t have any intentions on really following through with the man because he just seems like a threat to her safe, protected little bubble of diy nails and chilling alone at home. but as time goes on, she realizes that she’s in a quicksand situation. swapped informational videos of boxing and yoga are just the beginning. soon, they’re texting back and forth. funny videos sent at way too late at night, a range of questions exchanged as they get to know each other, random voice messages that make her stomach tingle… she looks forward to speaking with him, even changes his text tone so she knows when it’s him.

he’s just so funny in such a simple, straightforward way. sometimes she bites at him and he doesn’t budge a bit, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction. sometimes they go back and forth like a tennis match. he’s not afraid of her sass and she loves when he actually bites back. he’s just… attractive. in a lot of ways, on so many different levels. she ends up going to the gym late more often because he’ll be there, spotting her while she lifts and helping her with her boxing. ms. becca at the front desk seems to really not like it, but her non-working ass can move on somewhere. crys and ony start a routine that whenever she comes to work out with him, they grab food and sit in one of their cars to goof around. they even decide to power walk with mrs. etta every now and then.

it’s insanity to kt, though. she doesn’t understand why they haven’t ‘fucked each other like bunnies’ already and she reminds crys every time they talk. they’d scrolled his instagram together several times and he’s a popular topic between the two of them, three including kt’s boyfriend. he, of course, has a front row seat to these conversations since ms. kt never wants to use her damn headphones.

one particular night, crys is just really not feeling the workout. she’s more tired than usual and ony can tell. she’s not her usual, witty self. not a single jab has any bite to it, and it’s the same with her words. he doesn’t like it. she’s not supposed to be quiet or sad. he doesn’t like the distant look in her eyes and how she gives a weak smile at his teasing. “hey,” he murmurs. “go get changed and get your stuff.” he watches as she looks up at him with a furrowed brow. “you’re obviously not feelin’ up to it. we’ve done enough, let’s grab sum to eat.”

crys was going to push through, get her workout regardless. “nah, I’m good,” she shrugs him off. “no, you ain’t. quit playin’, it’s not a suggestion,” he grumbles back. that surprises her, but she guesses it shouldn’t really. one thing that she’s noticed is how good he is at reading people, and he’s really good at reading her now. he knows when to push, and has learned how to in several different circumstances. she guesses this is one of them. his tone is different than usual though. it’s set, no room for negotiations, no joking around. his eyes are focused and sharp in a way that almost even she doesn’t want to argue with. “…right. yeah, okay. I can go by myself though, you can finish your workout,” she mutters softly.

“what I say?”

crys didn’t need to be told again. his whole demeanor is looking more immovable than ever, eyes and tone telling her to get her ass to the locker room, basically. if it were anyone else, she would’ve fired back and asked who the hell he thought he was. but at this point, she’s too tired and she really doesn’t want to poke the bear. so she sighs and nods, grabbing her bag as she shuffles back to the locker room to get her stuff. she’s grateful, honestly, because as soon as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, she feels like she’s been hit by a bus but it’s really just a wave of exhaustion.

“you pushin’ too hard, ma,” he murmurs, his eyes on the road as he drives. he’s seen her energy decreasing over time, the spark in her eyes dimming. he’d slide a comment in or two about taking a break only for her to brush it off like it was no problem. she’s stubborn and he knows that, but fully capable of taking care of herself, which is why he wasn’t expecting it to get this far. she’s drained and he’ll be damned if he just stands by and watches her continue down this path. especially with the way her head is leaning against his window. usually he’d say something about her hair products getting on it, but he couldn’t give a damn about that.

“you been slackin’ and you know it. wassup?” he questions as he spares her a glance. she sighs, her eyes closing as he makes the familiar trip to their usual spot. “stress. I’ve just been stressed,” she answers. that much he could tell. it’s not really the information he’s looking for though. “mhm. why?” he presses. his voice is a mix of tenderness and concern but also firmness. he’s not going to let her brush this under the rug. “just a lot of shit goin’ on, ony. work’s a mess, they can barely do anything without me there they’re always arguing and never getting anything done. I’ve been looking for another job for months with no luck and it’s really starting to become a problem because I want to leave soon. and I don’t know, I just want to be in a different situation than I am right now.”

ony hums, rolling her words over in his head. he knows she’s been trying to leave her job, even sent her resume out to a few people he knows just to help out. he can understand her frustration, he was in a similar boat before he started his own thing and became a personal trainer. he gets it, the stress from working in a place that drains you and how so many job rejections can affect a person. “it’s alright, ma. I know that don’t mean much to you right now, but it’s gone work out, aight? I’ll put some pressure on my folks, help see what’s out there. you still got some pto right?” he asks. she sighs, rubbing her forehead. “yeah, but I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.” he could almost chuckle.

“it don’t seem like it’s rainin’ to you?” he pushes slightly. “take some time off. rest and relax so you can come back better. do yo yoga and shit, smoke some, whatever. you need a break, babygirl. no positive change is gonna come from you stressin’ and burnin’ out. it’s a three day weekend coming up, take the couple days before that off too.” she looks out the window as they pull into the drive thru. he’s right and she knows it. it’s just so easy for her to get swept up into the stress and lose herself a little bit more and more until she realizes just how close she is to burning out. she can feel tears gathering in her eyes from the stress.

“oh, pretty girl,” he mumbles, seeing the emotion in her eyes. he pulls off to the side and parks in the back of the lot instead of getting in line. “c’mere, crystal,” he croons, reaching an arm around her to pull her close. she sniffles and her shoulders shake as she cries into his shoulder, letting out what she’s let build up for so long. “s’okay, ma. you really doin’ good shit, providin’ for yourself and workin’ hard. it’s gonna work out, you gotta believe that,” he presses, squeezing her tighter. “but you can’t do this, okay? you can’t wither away like this. your health is important and if you neglect it, it’ll affect everything. I don’t like seein’ you upset and tired and drained. wanna see that pretty smile, get a taste of that sass that irks me so much.” she laughs slightly in his arms, her own wrapping around him as he gives her the most comforting hug she’s had in a while. “you’re right or whatever. big headed ass,” she mumbles.

“there she is.”

ᥫ᭡

after that night, she did exactly what he suggested. she took those extra days off and just recovered. smoked, slept a whole bunch, had a self-care day, and even booked a massage just for an extra treat. of course she talked ony’s ear off, and texted him and her best friend a bunch too, but it was necessary in her eyes. she knows they love her presence, even if they call her annoying. by her last day off, she feels rejuvenated.

she feels less stressed. she has a revamped resume, a mini twist out that’s cute and lets her leave her hair alone, new nails, and a new attitude. but… crys is running out of excuses to give as far as her and ony. his support that night meant more to her than he probably even knew. the way he held her, calmed her down, and comforted her… it’s something that’s been plaguing dancing in her mind. he’s shown that he can handle her full range of emotions no problem and can support her regardless of how strongly she feels. at this point, even she’s started to wonder why they haven’t done anything. she hasn’t made a move, no, but neither has he. he seems perfectly content with the way things are and is starting to become bothersome.

she can’t get him out of her head. his voice, his laugh, his features. every time he encourages her while she’s going at the punching bag, she wants to push the damn thing out of the way and just tackle him. when she can feel his eyes on her while they stretch, she wants to show him exactly what she can do and how her flexibility can blow his fucking mind. she wants to kiss him, touch him, hear those encouraging words that he gives her in an entirely different setting.

but his lack of action is causing her to overthink. is he not as affected as she is? does his heart not pound in her presence like hers does in his? how the hell is she the only one gnawing her lip at the thought of more? maybe it’s because she hasn’t had sex in so long. maybe that’s it. she’s just like this because of her wack ass sex life.

contrary to crys’ perspective, though, ony is losing his shit.

he definitely would’ve made a move by now if these were usual circumstances. he’s just so thrown off by how much he likes her, how much she makes him feel. she’s so much more than that pretty face and that mouth watering body. she’s funny, witty, and she packs a nasty ass punch both with her words and her hands. he likes the full range of crys. mouthy and annoying, intentionally trying to get a raise out of him. flirty and teasing, sensual in the way she draws him in. sweet and serene, almost like an oasis of calm and tranquility. oh, and he can’t forget how expressive she is with every emotion. her anger when her order’s wrong at the late night burger place they frequent, her excitement and joy when mrs. etta tells her about another good scan at the doctor, her sadness when she sees a sad tiktok during rest periods.

he just doesn’t get it. how can one person be so damn enthralling? how can someone’s quirks and flaws be so beautiful? he’s never felt pulled like this, but you know what? he’s fucking with it. she’s done nothing but add color to his life, a great addition that he felt like he was waiting for without even knowing. he loves her presence. she makes him smile and belly laugh, she pisses him off, she lights him up. he can be goofy with her, serious, sensitive even. he just wants more and more of crys, and even when he thinks maybe there’s nothing left to surprise him about her, she whips something new out of her arsenal. it’s just crazy how she has him by the throat but he’s happy to be along for the ride.

but he’s really wanting that ride to go somewhere. he’s always thought that it was crazy that crys is single, he just doesn’t understand it. in his eyes, she’s everything great in a woman. confident, sensitive, hardworking, sweet… annoying but in the best ways, enthralling, sexy as all hell.

when he’s ranting to eren about her for the nth time, the brunette raises an eyebrow at him and asks what’s taking him so long to ask her out. ony blinks. he thought they were… well, something already. but the sense that’s been chasing him for quite a while now finally catches up to him and hits him like a truck. he has to say something. do something. the unspoken thing doesn’t work for adults, and definitely not if he actually wants to keep her. is he an idiot? he wants to say no to his own question so badly, but he knows he would be delusional if he did.

so he quickly decides to get his shit together. the next time he sees crys, he’s asking her on an actual date, and that’s it. this whole thing could’ve been at a different point if he’d taken his head out of his ass and asked her out that first night he saw her in the gym. but it’s too late to try to change the past, and he can fix his mistakes in the present.

ᥫ᭡

unfortunately for ony, crys has a nasty attitude the next time they meet. her answers are short and snippy, and not in the usual, fun way. they had plans to go shopping together to buy mrs. etta a congratulatory something for completing her treatment, both having become extremely fond of the lady and being supportive of her on her journey. ony picks her up, being the gentleman he is (he hates her driving) and it takes no time at all to notice the bitter air around her. he actually realizes it the second she closes the door to her townhouse too damn hard. she huffs and puffs as she gets settled in the passenger seat.

crys doesn’t really know exactly why she’s so mad. it’s another one of those days where the stress has built up so quickly without her noticing, something that happens when her head isn’t fully in the game. she doesn’t want to take it out on ony, never means to, but something about knowing that he can handle that shit keeps her from being as mindful as she should be. “hey,” he speaks, his eyebrow raising at her lack of greeting. “hey,” she greets blandly. “what’s wrong, ma?” he asks, looking from her to the road as he pulls off. she just shakes her head. “thanks for picking me up,” she murmurs. “of course,” he responds.

he’s eyeing her every once in a while, trying to pick up on whatever he can. she’s fiddling a lot, tapping her fingers as she looks out the window. antsy? irritated? what is it, he wonders. but he’s not super fond of playing the guessing game, by now she should know that she can talk to him about any and everything on her mind and in her heart. he’ll listen, he’ll care, and he’ll support. hasn’t he shown that? “you lyin’ to me, ma. don’t like it,” he mumbles. she doesn’t answer and he really doesn’t like that. “what’s the issue, crys? talk,” he presses, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. this isn’t anything he’s used to from her. mouthy sometimes? sure. that’s nothing he can’t handle. but the silent treatment mixed with the tense attitude is not how he was planning to spend this time with her.

“nothin’, just tired.” she murmurs. his eyebrows furrow. “we can reschedule if you want,” he responds, understanding. “nah,” she says simply. she can’t explain it, she doesn’t really want to act like this. she’s just not exactly happy at the moment and the two seem to have very different vibes. guess that’s the theme, huh? she thinks. “mama, you not bein’ fair. tryna talk to you,” he mumbles. she rolls her eyes, looking out the window. “yeah, talk. your favorite thing to do,” she mumbles.

ony pauses, but only for a moment. “and that’s supposed to mean?” crys sighs, as if she’s really just over him. “nothing, ony, m’sorry. are we goin’ to macy’s or ross first?” she’s trying to deflect, and although ony’s not stupid, he lets her. maybe she just needs time, she can be like that every now and then. carrying around irritation from an earlier incident until it eventually fades and she’s good to go. sometimes she just needs to process her emotions, and ony’s cool with that. he’s cool with anything with her, it seems.

they end up at ross first, mrs. etta’s favorite store that she talks about when they power walk with her. they get her random things, little trinkets that remind them of her, lotions and candles, and a few decorative pieces for her house. they move to macy’s to get her a perfume she likes, and a few other random things that draw their attention. last is dollar.25 tree and a couple other craft stores, the mission being to grab a big basket and additional stuffing to make her a custom gift basket with a congratulatory card from both of them. crys is quieter than usual the entire time, but not necessarily agitated. it seems like shopping for mrs. etta is cheering her up.

seems.

once they get to her house, ony can tell by the way she groans as she flops onto her couch that she’s not a hundred percent. at this point, he’s confused and maybe a bit worried. what is it that has her so upset? he doesn’t like when she’s quiet, much rather her be loud and expressive with whatever emotion she’s feeling. it’s eerie when she’s quiet and ony can’t tell what she’s thinking or feeling. he doesn’t like to be in the dark.

“c’mon, ma, let’s go ahead and get this assembled. we can talk and smoke after,” he mumbles, moving to set the stuff down on her dining room table. he wants to sit and smoke, get her to shake herself out of whatever fucking funk she’s in, but he figures it’s a good idea to finish up mrs. etta’s gift. he really wants it to be perfect. he’s known mrs. etta for a while, she was even one of the people that encouraged him the most when he first started training, and he’s extremely happy that her treatment is done. a bratty sigh is heard from the girl on the couch and ony has to close his eyes to center himself. “we can’t take a break? all that shopping. m’tired.”

ony licks his lips and lets out a breath. “sure, ma, take a break. imma get started on this, I’ll chill after,” he responds. crys doesn’t like the little breath he takes, his tone coming across patronizing to her. “you tired of me? cause I can really do that shit by myself,” she responds lowly. she swears she can see a vein appear on ony’s forehead, but only momentarily. “nah. just want this gift to be good,” he mumbles. crys sits up to look at him. “it’s good already, we put a lot of thought into everything. what, you think I can’t assemble it myself?” her head tilts. because she could make the prettiest damn basket all on her own, really. she’ll prove it if she has to.

ony’s on the brink. he’s been patient all day— he’s always patient with her. it’s usually no issue, but today she’s really pushing it. mrs. etta should be the focus right now. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” she asks, her eyebrows beginning to furrow. “yes, love, I hear you,” he murmurs. “just focused.” he’s really trying to keep it together.

crys scoffs, “yeah, well, you can focus and talk. you wouldn’t have to focus as much if you waited on me.” ony wonders what he did to be in this position. he hasn’t done shit to her, hasn’t said anything disrespectful, and he knows that she isn’t usually one to take her shit out on him, so he’s just thinking. wondering what has her so mad. “there you go again, not fuckin’ responding,” she huffs, standing up and crossing her arms. “you can just get the hell out forreal, I can finish this mysel—“

“sit the fuck down.”

crys blinks. and then blinks again. “excuse me?” she asks. she couldn’t have heard that right. he wouldn’t talk to her like that, he’s not insane. but the look he gives when he turns to her gives her second thoughts on that theory. “you heard me. sit the fuck down. I’m not leavin’ and you’re about to act like you have some fucking respect instead of poppin’ off at the mouth. I’ve dealt with your shit ask damn day, trying to be patient and understanding— like I always am with yo lil ass. I’m not playin’ crys. sit down,” he demands. and he really means that shit too, she can tell.

crys’ jaw is damn near on the floor by the time he finishes talking. “who you talkin’ t—“ she starts, only to be interrupted by a slow approaching ony, having put the materials he was working with down. “crys, I swear, if you don’t get some act right—“ he starts, trying to keep his breath even and his body calm. tired of being interrupted, crys decides to give him a taste of his own medicine. “what? what you gone do? talk my ear off? stand there and look at me with your arms crossed? I ain’t scared of you, ony. you don’t do shit and won’t do shit to me.”

“nah. I’ma fuck you,” he answers as he steps into her personal space. if crys’ jaw was on the floor before, it’s in hell now. there’s no way he just said that. “fuck that nasty ass attitude right outta you. you playin’ in my face, ma. you know I don’t like that shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ understanding with yo ass, somethin’ not every nigga is willin’ to do, by the way. you push and you push and I let yo ass. is that the problem?” he tilts his head, chest almost touching hers as he looks down. his eyes are dark, his jaw tense. the vein she thought she saw earlier is bulging now, almost angrier than ony himself. “is the problem that I let yo lil ass keep pushin’ me? cause I swear it don’t mean that I’ll just let the shit slide. and I’ll prove that shit too.”

ᥫ᭡

“fuck,” crys pants, tugging on the sheets in front of her. “please,” her voice breaks. “just— just lemme come. I’m so close, ony, please!”

she’s been on all fours for a while now, face buried in the bed as ony works her with his tongue and fingers. she’s in a pool of her own arousal, thighs wet and pussy drenched from the several times she’s been close to the edge, only to be disappointed each time as she’s denied her orgasm. her bottom lip is bitten raw, toes almost permanently curled and eyes finding a home in the back of her head as she pushes her hips back again and again to coax ony to at least let her have one. if she knew this was going to be the result of her attitude today, she would’ve just asked him to fuck her before they even left to go shopping. she’s waited enough for this, and even now when she’s so close, she’s getting denied.

there’s a harsh but absolutely welcome smack to her ass and she whines so damn pathetically that ony almost laughs. pulls his full lips from her clit with a pop and massages the cheek. “you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and raspy in a way unfamiliar to crys. she quickly shakes her head and grips the sheets tighter. “no, please! keep going, wanna come on your face,” she begs, pushing her hips to meet his lips again. the sound and sight of her is addicting, ony thinks. he likes the way she seems so desperate for his touch and tongue, craving that release that he’s been building up for so long. “you wanna come?” he asks, his fingers sliding back into her soaked pussy. he can feel her clench around him almost instantly. fuck he’s going to enjoy tonight. “yes! yes, wanna come!” she pants, rocking her hips to meet the thrust of his long fingers.

“then shut the fuck up and let me have my fun,” he murmurs, diving his face back in as his tongue meets her clit once again. “ah, shit,” she whimpers, her eyes rolling back again at the pleasure that washes over her. “yes, yes, just like that. fuck, you eatin’ my pussy up,” she moans. she’s never been so mad but so pleased at the same time. he’s torturing her and she doesn’t know how much longer she can last before she releases all over him without his say so. she’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want to find out what else he’ll do , even if it’s his fault. “my fuckin’ pussy,” he pulls back to murmur, flicking his tongue quickly over her pearl as his fingers continue to pump. she’s so wet, his fingers move with ease, and the sound that’s made is delicious. “say that shit.”

“fuck, I’ll say whatever you want,” she whines, back arching and toes throwing up gang signs. “s’your pussy, baby! take it take it take it,” she moans, throwing her ass back over and over. she’s so damn close, so damn close. she can almost taste it. her tummy feels like it’s about to burst and her poor pussy is sobbing. he pulls back once again to her dismay, reading her body like a book. “you betta not fuckin’ come,” he murmurs, fingers moving faster as they stretch her. how the hell is she not supposed to come? is he insane? “you fuckin’ kidding meee?” she whines, her head falling down onto the sheets. ony likes how spent she looks already, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. “you know damn well I ain’t,” he grumbles, smacking her ass again. “arch that shit. it’s gone be a long night if you don’t listen to me, baby.”

in a turn of events, ony’s pussy drunk. he’s enjoying himself way too much, taking in her moans and slurping up what’s now his to pleasure. he’s just drowning in her, hands exploring everywhere he can touch. caressing, appreciating, adoring this beautiful woman falling apart on his tongue. he could do this all day and be grateful every second of it. he’s absolutely aching in his shorts, but something about bringing such a normally mouthy girl to babbles is too hard to turn away from. he didn’t even mean to take it this far, he just doesn’t want to stop. he wants her to keep feeling good, and the way she begs and reaches back for him to bring him closer lets him know that he’s doing his job

“please, I can’t,” she begs, back arching but breath deepening. “ony, I caan’tt, m’gonna come,” she whines. she’s trying, really she promises she is, but it’s just become too hard to hold out. it’s too good, she wants it and needs it. if he doesn’t stop or give her the green light, she’s gonna make a mess of both of them, and she’s not going to regret it. ony groans at her whines, basking in the sound of her begging and pleading. he can feel how she’s clenching, hears the desperation in her voice. she’s gone, melting into a pile of goo at his touch, and he’s never felt more satisfied. not only are they both having the times of their lives, but that attitude is just about gone and she’s actually acting like she has some fucking manners.

he reluctantly pulls back and removes his hand from her, licking at his fingers like a man starved. “flip over,” he huffs, standing and palming his aching dick. she seems to be too out of it, raising her head full of messy curls to look up in his general direction. “w-what?” she questions. ony doesn’t have time for her shit, so he grabs her hips and flips her over his damn self. the way he looks down at her is downright sinful and crys flutters simply at the sight. “fuckin’ bratty ass. you did this to yourself, crys. was gonna take you on a nice ass date, make love with your pretty ass, do shit the right way. but that fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he grumbles as he grabs her by her ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “is too damn bold with me. gotta fix that, sweetheart. you gone be my good girl after tonight, I can promise you that.”

she whines and grinds against his hand as his thumb traces circles on her puffy clit. looking down at her, he realizes that this is one of his favorite sights now. her eyes are blurry with tears from the constant denial, her face scrunched in a cute and sexy pout of pleasure, her tits shifting with each movement. ony could watch her like this all day, bringing her to the edge over and over just to see those pretty tears fall and hear that voice of hers crack. that’d only be torture for himself as well because he feels like he’s about to burst. “you so damn beautiful. you want this dick, sweetheart? tell me, I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs, licking his lips as he lets his shorts fall. crys whines and nods, unruly curls all over the place. so damn breathtaking.

“gimme it, please. wanna come all over it, baby. paint it for you,” she begs. her arms reach to hook around the back of her knees, pulling her thighs back slightly to open up for him. her words only serve to rile him up more. “you a lil freak, huh? mmm, you can do better than that, baby. stretch them legs like I know yo lil freaky ass can,” he grumbles, pulling his underwear down and off, his cock hanging low between his legs. crys knew it— she just knew it was big, and she was right. it’s long and thick with a minimal curve, and if she wasn’t so deprived she’d get on her knees and pay him back for the teasing. she whimpers and bites her lip, sliding her hands to hook behind her knees instead. she pulls her thighs flush to her chest and keeps going, extending her legs.

“fuck, yeah, baby, show me that pretty pussy. fat pussy all mine,” he grumbles. he lessens their distance, letting himself rest on her as he takes her in. what a fucking vision of a woman. he takes his dick in his hand and lightly taps it against her before her rubs himself all in her wetness. “look at ‘chu, baby. so fuckin’ sloppy. this all for me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks back to her face. she goes to speak, but ony considers her next words unimportant in the grand scheme of things. before she can speak, she feels him start to press into her. she lets out a breathy moan, her grip tightening on her legs. “f-fuck,” she moans at the same time ony lets a groaning “shiiit,” pass his lips.

the two pant, looking each other in the eyes as he continues to press forward. crys is seeing stars, feeling the stretch of him. her face scrunches and her eyes begin to close. “mm-mm, keep them pretty eyes on me,” ony‘s breathing heavy , his hand coming to lightly wrap around her throat. “sexy ass. you bet not deny me that shit.” crys can only lick her lips, forcing her eyes open to meet his, clenching at the way he speaks. his words add to the growing fire within her. “there you go, baby. love that shit,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against hers in a nasty, sloppy kiss. crys is upset at the fact that this man is really bringing her to her knees. “so damn fine. don’t know why I waited so long to be in yo shit. too fucking good,” he groans, pulling out just slightly before pushing back in. crys gasps, pulling her legs closer just to have something to grab, but it just makes him go deeper.

“feels so good, onyyy,” she moans, keeping the eye contact as much as she can. ony’s hovering over her now, watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows together in concentration. he’s moving slowly, letting her adjust to him and just taking in the view in front of him. “onyyy,” she moans, clenching around him as her pussy flutters. he’s so damn fine and it’s been so long since she’s been touched. he’s deep in her shit and she’s on cloud nine. she wants more, so much more, and she wants it all from him. she hates it took so long to get to this point and hates that she the fact that she stopped herslef from persuing him. she wants this, needs all of him. “fuck me,” she chokes out. “c’mon, please.”

“relax,” he mutters, his free hand rubbing up her thigh. “just keep that pretty pussy open for me. I’ma always give you what you need, sweetheart. always.” and he means it. he’s never going to play with her, not her heart or her mind. but he’ll play with her pretty pussy until the sun comes up, until the cows come home. he’s never felt anything so good, seen someone so beautiful while they take his dick. she’s everything to him in this moment, her curls sprawled around her like the sun’s halo, face showing all the pleasure she’s feeling. her breathing is deep, her eyes staying on his just like he said.

he’s fucked. shit, he might just be in love.

“ooo, fuck, ony,” she keens, her nails slightly digging into the skin of her thigh. “so big. oh my God, baby.” she’s having the time of her life. he’s stretching her so well, and he feels so damn good digging into her like that. ”yeah, yeah. been waiting for thisss,” she pants, unable to keep her mouth shut. it’s just so good and it’s hitting that spot. would could blame her? “give it to me,” she moans. ony groans above her, his hips starting to meet hers sharper and sharper. she’s still so vocal, and he’s eating it the fuck up. “mhm,” he breathes, his hands moving to rest on hers, helping to hold her legs as she falters. “take that dick, babygirl. s’all for you. swear it is,” he groans. she doesn’t know it, but she could ask for just about anything right now and he’d give it to her.

her eyes scan over him, her hand reaching out to lightly scratch down his abdomen. “fuckin’ me so good, ony.”ony groans at the touch of her nails, his gut tightening at the way she’s looking up at him. he pulls out, reaching down to tap himself against her again. she’s too much, her voice, her eyes, her touch… the way she keeps clenching around him. “you fuckin’ dangerous, mama,” he pants. “can I beat this pussy up, baby? lemme take it.” crys bites her lip and nods, looking up at him in a way that makes him grip her thighs a little tighter. fucking minx. he’s beating himself up for not doing this sooner. he adjusts himself on the bed, leaning down to press his lips to hers as he slides back in, the two of them moaning into each other's mouths. he immediately picks up the pace as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling slightly as he presses more of his weight onto her.

crys starts to gasp with each thrust, toes curling and a squeak escaping her when she feels his hands on her clit. “w-wait— fuck, wait, m’gonna come quick,” she moans, fingers gripping ony’s shoulders as he pins one of her thighs to her chest. she wants to come with him, but her earlier pleasure is coming back with a fucking vengeance. ony chuckles— actually chuckles, and rasps down to her, “that’s the point, sweetheart. give it to me.” if she wasn’t on the brink of a mind blowing orgasm, she’d be pissed and annoyed at that fucking smirk. but instead she pants and pants until her breath stops. her orgasm washes over her in delicious waves, and she’s just frozen in pleasure, unable to do anything but come and come, pulsing around ony.

“breathe, mama. come on, breath through that shit,” ony guides, pressing kisses up and down her neck. right, breathing. she forgot about that. crys lets out a long moan, her eyes rolling back as she tastes her sweet release. sweet isn’t even the word, though. the denial and delay just makes things ten times stronger, her orgasm wracking her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. she’s holding onto ony tightly as he talks her through it, breathing heavy as she just takes it. “yeaah, there you go. breathe, baby, I got you. gonna take real good care of you just like I said,” ony grumbles, nipping at her skin here and there and slowing his thrusts and his assault on her clit. he has to pant at the way she’s so tight around him, and he’s just so strained holding back good open release. “you deserve that shit, baby.” more kisses and nips than either of them can count are placed on crys’ neck as crys comes down and tries to calm down as well.

his hand reaches to gently caress her cheek as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the other. “you’re so beautiful, babygirl. you feel okay?” he asks softly. okay? she’s riding down a fucking rainbow of happiness and bliss. okay is an understatement. crys figures that would boost his who a bit too much, so she just tilts her head to rest on the side of his. “mhm,” she hums breathlessly. “so good,” she murmurs. ony’s glad, pressing more kisses to her sweet face. he’s happy he can make her feel good, especially considering how she was sarlier in the day. “good enough to gimme another one?” he asks. he just can’t get enough, so he has to ask. he wants this night to last as long as it can.

crys lets out a breath, wondering just what the hell is wrong with the man. she’s been through the wringer for a good while now. but it’s felt amazing every step of the way, so the answer is yes. of course it’s yes. she nods. “just one more, sweetheart,” he croons, looking down at her dazed face. he pulls out, turning her over onto her stomach, much gentler this time. he guides her on all fours and reaches to rest his hand on the headboard, his other hand positioning himself once again. once he begins to push inside, his arm wraps around her torso to hold her tight as they both moan. his hips start to move again, this time with a slower pace as he braces himself on the headboard.

ony can’t help but feel the shift on the room. it’s much more intimate than before, crys sensitive from one release already. he wants to be so many things for her. he can be a little aggressive, knowing she likes when he bites back. he can be goofy and unserious. and he can be soft. he can be serious with her and about her. that’s what he wants. “wanted this for so long, baby. wanted you,” he murmurs into her ear. the sound makes her pussy flutter, causing him to chuckle again. “sh-shut up,” she mumbles, her hands slowly tightening around the sheets below them. the combination of his intimate confession and his thrusting into her is a double whammy that she didn’t see coming.

“mmm, I’m serious babygirl. want you, been wantin’ you,” he presses, eyes falling shut as his hips continue to move. she feels so good, it’s ridiculous. he’s going to be in it every day if she lets him. “gotta make you mine, ma. I’m forreal.” and he is, because what kind of idiot would he be to let her slip through his fingers? crys let’s her head fall back in a moan as he starts to gently work her clit. everything about this is just insane. who knew what today was going to bring? “y-you never… ah,” she cuts herself off with a moan as he curves his hips, fucking her in just the right way in such an intimate moment. fuck, what was she saying? “I never said anything, I know. s’my fault, no excuse. I was just too busy enjoyin’ bein’ around you,” he murmurs, moaning as he holds her tighter. his hips are starting to move a bit faster and crys is starting to meet his every thrust.

“but you mine now, right? I’ma do— fuuuck, I’ma do right by you, mama. always,” he groans. he means every word. it’s like she has a spell on him and he doesn’t care. if she wants his heart, she can take it. he leans back from the headboard, sitting up on his knees as he keeps her back against his chest. gosh, crys’ heart just flutters. “yeah,” she moans. “yeah, ony, m’yours. f-finally.” that puts a tired smile on ony’s face, his already racing heart squeezing. with one hand massaging her clit and the other now on her hip, ony begins fucking into her faster. “that’s right, baby. and I’m yours. can’t get rid of me, can’t push me away, sure as fuck not scarin’ me away,” he groans. i’d important to him that she knows that, with her lil stubborn ass.

crys reaches back behind her, grabbing onto him. “yeah, j-just like that, ony. me and youuu,” she moans, feeling that familiar sensation again. her body’s almost tired of it after so much teasing and edging and repeating. “gonna come for you, baby,” she groans. she has no fight left, it’s going to rock her and she knows it. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice coming out breathy as he continues to thrust into her. he doesn’t remember the last time he felt as good as he does in this moment. he doesn’t want it to end, but he can’t hold anymore. she’s tight around him, pulsing as her release approaches once again. “paint my dick, baby, just like you said. then I’ma give you this nut,” he huffs, working his hips more and more. crys is a moaning mess, her head dipping as she feels another strong orgasm approaching. “keep breathin’,” ony croons. “want you to feel all that shit, mama.”

she breathes as even as she can, breaths deepening as she quickly approaches that line. “ohhh, ony!” she cries out, her eyes squeezing shut. ” let it out, baby, give it to me. give me that shit,” he groans to her, working her clout faster and faster as he keeps pumping into her. it’s all too much and it brings her over the edge, her toes almost cramping and hips moving without her knowledge. “there it goes, keep breathing. fuck yeah, mama, take that shit.” it’s an intense feeling and she’s chasing it, breathing like ony directs and it makes the difference. she feels the shit down to her toes. her eyes are crossed and she can’t even fucking speak, just taking whatever comes as her eyes shut tight. “that’s it, baby, feel that shit. know you feel good, I know,” he pants.

ony’s fucking into her faster, the way she’s clenching around him making his head spin. his grip tightens on her hip as he chases his own high, watching her fucked out face. she looks so good like that, spent and satisfied and his. “fuuuck, you so gorgeous, crystal. gahdamn you feel good as fuck,” he rambles, praising her over and over just because he can and she deserves it. soon, he’s pulling out and pumping himself all over her ass, groaning as his body jerks. “yeah, ony,” crys coos with a raspy voice. she’s giving a tired wiggle of her hips, encouraging him to spill all over her. “fuckin’ perfect.”

the two pant, spent from such a lovely day together. it’s silent as they just back in the afterglow of their impromptu endeavors. eventually, ony starts to press sweet, calming kisses to her shoulder and back. he appreciates the small marks on her skin, random beauty marks and freckles. “perfect, mama. you were perfect,” he rasps. as far as he’s concerned, today couldn’t have been more successful. crys is… well, crys is out of commission at the moment. her mind is fuzzy in her post orgasm bliss, and she’s catching her breath as she basks in his kisses. “fuck…” she mumbles. that was very unexpected but completely welcome. the wait was more than worth it, and now she can have that again and again and again. “yeah,” ony chuckles tiredly. “yeah, that was crazy. damn.”

the two laugh together, gross and sticky, but so happy with the situation. that line was finally crossed, and there’s no going back. not that either of them would want to, anyway. ony glances down at crys as she rests for a moment, eyes closed and lashes tickling her skin. the earlier tensions are gone, nothing but fondness and connection in it’s wake. he reaches to caress her cheekbone, tucking a curl behind her ear and out of her face. “sorry for earlier,” crys mumbles into the quiet. she really is, she doesn’t like when she projects her upset like that. she nevers wants that for anyone she’s connecting with, especially not ony. he’s been understanding with her in a way that she’s learned to deeply appreciate. “but I’m glad we did this.”

ony hums, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. he can deal with a little push from her, especially since he gets to keep her. she’s a sweet girl, and she invigorates him. he appreciates her expressiveness and range of emotions, and understands that sometimes she’s just human. he’s okay with that. but now that they’re together, he has the ability to take a different approach. sometimes she needs him to snap back at her, and that’s what he’ll do with absolutely no hesitation from now on. there’s a mutual respect and understanding, and ony really fucks with that shit. “just needed some attention… and dick,” he murmurs. and he’ll give it to her whenever, wherever.

crys groans and starts to fuss, turning to weakly slap at his chest. “oh, shut up! go get me a damn towel!” here he goes saying some slick shit, right when the moment is good. he’s such an idiot sometimes, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. ony lets out a bellowing laugh, backing off of her and standing on his only slightly wobbling legs. he hopes she didn’t see that, but she’s already talking shit again. “yeah, pussy got you walkin’ crazy,” she sasses as he starts his trek to the bathroom, watching his sweaty but oh so fine figure walk away. ”better act right or you’ll never get it again,” she huffs. ony laughs again, shaking his head. “don’t make me start this shit all over, crystal,” he calls over his shoulder. she rolls her eyes but nuzzles her face into a pillow as she grumbles under her breath. she’s not scared, she’s just still recovering, is all. “yeah, that’s what I thought,” he laughs.

soon, they’re all cleaned up and on fresh sheets, crys refusing to sleep in the crusty bedspread after everything was said and done. they get into a spat about who gets to sleep on which side of the bed, and then over whether they should sleep with some time of light on. ony also demands to cuddle, but crystal fusses that she’ll get too hot and won’t be able to sleep. for that brief period, it’s war.

eventually, though, after bargains and begrudging compromises, crys is on her back on her usual side of the bed and ony is half-sprawled on top of her, head buried in her neck and hand softly rubbing her outer thigh. a random sitcom plays with no sound and the room is a nice, cool temperature with the fan blowing on the both of them. crys caresses ony’s back gently with her nails, eyes closed as she enjoys the weight of him on top of her. the pleasant feeling is like a weighted blanket, lulling her to sleep. ony is holding crys close, enjoying her warmth and presence. he’s taking full advantage of being able to cuddle with her. they fall asleep like this, wrapped up in each other, and wondering what the next day will bring.

hoooooly moooooly. this was not supposed to be this long. was hoping to post this sooner, but the words just kept coming omg. pls excuse any mistakes lmao. hope you like it! feedback welcome and wanted 🫶🏽

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🐾₊˚ I DON'T PURR : 709 WRDS

INSPIRED BY @cloudbug08 ‘s CG LOGAN HEADCANONS ; DRABBLE |🐾| A/N : No one will ever stop me from making CG!/Dad!Logan fics. At all. Ever.

You’ve been regressed all day. Yesterday was a busy, stressful, overwhelming day, and now you’re coping with the stress. Logan is by your side, caring for you as usual. You lay on the living room floor’s carpet, tummy pressed to the ground, legs kicking up in the air. You breathe contently as you carefully color the page Logan printed out for you.

You could hear him in the bathroom down the corridor near the stairs. He was carefully grooming his hair while humming a tune that sounded a little too familiar. A soft smile crept onto your lips once you recognized it, it was the sound of your favorite cartoon’s intro. “I know that song,” you chirp, gaining a soft chuckle from the man. “You sure do, kiddo. So much that you’ve got me hummin’ it myself,” he replied. He set down the comb before letting out a soft sigh. The sound of his boots slightly clacking against the hardwood floor made you turn your head and giggle out of excitement when you see him. “Kitty hair! Kitty hair,” you exclaim. “Not kitty hair,” he corrected while shaking his head.

“Kitty hair” is what you’d call Logan’s hair any time he had it brushed up like little animal ears. As much as he denied that they were meant to be ears to represent any animal, he never truly cared that you called it kitty hair. He found it pretty cute and grew fond of the term.

“Can I pretty please play with it,” you plead, clasping your hands together. Logan shrugs in response. “I dunno, bubs,” he drags out playfully. “Pretty please? I promise I’ll get that one spot behind your ears that you really like,” you add in an attempt to get him to accept your request. He looks down at you sweetly, hands on his hips, one eyebrow cocked. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” he groans dramatically, feigning annoyance. “But you gotta clean up all that arts and crafts stuff you got going on.”

Without hesitation, you nod in agreement. You start to clean up your crayons and coloring pages with haste. Within minutes, you’re done putting everything up, now sat on the couch waiting for Logan to come lay his head on your lap. You stretch your hands out to him grasping the air between you two. “Calm down, kiddo. I’m coming,” he assures you. He walks closer to you, leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, slips off his boots, and lays his head in your lap. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable by putting one leg on top of the other and crossing his arms against his chest. “There you go, bubs,” he hums with a deep exhale. You squeal with excitement as you gently begin to play with his hair. You run your fingers through the strands, scratch his scalp, and when you scratch behind his ears, you hear something. Purring. He always purrs when you play with his hair for long enough.

“You purr,” you exclaim with a giggle and a huge grin on your face. Logan sighs in return. He shakes his head in denial “You’ve got it all wrong, kid. I don’t purr. Wolverines don’t purr. You’re making things up,” he protests against your previous claim.

You felt his throat vibrate softly against one of your thighs and listened closely. As you told him, he was purring.

“You purr like a kitty, then,” you chirp back. Another deep sigh. He’s not even annoyed with your claim. He knows you’re right. He just doesn’t want to admit to his kiddo that he purrs. “I don’t purr. I didn’t purr,” he states firmly. “It’s not right to lie to your papa,” he said with a light-hearted chuckle. “But you did! I promise,” you pout to him. “I’ll prove it,” you say before beginning to scratch at his scalp again.

Sure as hell, he purrs. He grumbles softly to interrupt his purrs in protest. You know you’ve won once you hear a soft sigh fall from his lips as you scratch right behind his ears. More purring. “Guess you’re right, bubs,” he chuckles softly while closing his eyes. “Just keep scratching. It feels nice,” he adds with a smile creeping onto his lips.

TAG LIST : @saronics

[please1mistress]

WARNING FLASHING IMAGES AND COVERT HYPNOSIS

you know why you stopped

you know you shouldn't stare

you know my words are easy

you know reading this is making you feel dizzy

you know it feels good to giggle

you know you love it when your titties jiggle

you know you need to stare

you know you trust me

you know you want this

know you need this

know the words are making your floaty

know that the bimbo wants to drop

know bimbo loves objectification

it loves being mindless

it feels floaty

it s having a hard time reading

big wrds hard to um read

hard think

easy sink

[johnpriceslamb]

hiii i love ur hcs smmm 🩷🩷😭 can we pls see arthur w a super affectionate clingy adorable cheery girlfriend pls im dying to see that man happy w an optimistic angel 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮

❥ Headcannons w/ Arthur + his affectionate gf

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓔𝓓 ! ꒰ ❥ female ! reader ❥ hyper-feminine ! reader ❥ reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below ❥ 1k wrd count. ꒱

❥ Oh, he loves you.

❥ He was a bit reluctant to be in a relationship because of his past experiences. But he knew you wouldn’t handle his heart with carelessness, and as he gave in to his decision of being with you- he felt as if he entered into a relationship with an angel.

❥ You were so kind to him, so sweet, so utterly gentle it made him almost throw up rainbows and glitter. Sometimes he wondered how you even managed to be in the gang.

❥ He wouldn’t be so used to the clinginess at first. Before you came in his life, he didn’t get hugs nor felt someone cling onto his arm unless they wanted something, so it was a big change for him personally.

❥ But did he hate it? Absolutely not. When you first wrapped your little arms around his arm, his demeanour softened up immediately but his urge to protect you became even greater.

❥ PDA was new to him. Again, he was reluctant at first since he wasn’t so experienced in this field despite having past experiences, but he’s managed to get comfortable over time.

❥ The first time you’ve managed to display affection publicly with him was by interlocking your pinkie with his as you both walked around Valentines. A discreet action that no one could see unless if they were to near the both of you and squint their eyes.

❥ His cheeks became embarrassingly red when you intertwined your little pinkie with his, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the cheeky sight. He coughs awkwardly, tilting his head down which made the hat he wore block out the view of his face as he murmured that it was the sun making his face warm.

❥ It was cloudy that day.

❥ Each act of affection he’s received from you makes him all sappy and mushy inside, even if he was about to die from anger.

❥ Let’s say Micah manages to piss him off again the umpteenth time this whole week and his veins were visible on his forehead, a simple hug from behind by you or a little kiss on the cheek would make him droop and deflate, the anger which was bubbling inside his system was somehow replaced with comfort and relief just by your little action. He wonders how you manage to have that effect on him.

❥ Arthur is a big man, no doubt about it. It was kind of silly to see such a large comparison between the two of you. Even if you were as large as a wolf, or as tall as a palm tree, Arthur still manages to tower over you.

❥ Arthur enjoys your cheeriness. He envisions you as a puppy that yaps all the time, little tail wiggling at the back eagerly as he amusingly gives into your little babbling sessions of how you hoped that you made his day today.

❥ And he figures that you’ve already made his day just by existing.

“Arthur!”

There you were. Zooming to him like an excited puppy, hands giddily behind your back as you stand in front of the looming man. You can feel his eyes sizing you up and down multiple times to see if you’ve managed to get any blemishes from the time you and him didn’t see each other.

“Easy, girl.” He lets out a soft grunt at the feeling of your demure figure clinging to him like a koala. He holds you tightly with one arm below your tush to stabilise yourself, hoisting you up like a toddler. It takes him barely any effort to keep you still.

“Arthur,” You happily nuzzle your cheek into his chest, cooing out his name like a mantra, “I’ve missed you oh-so much!”

“‘S only been a day, darlin’.” He replies with that slow, southern drawl of his, “I missed you too though.”

“You better!” You beam as he strolls to his tent, plopping himself on his bedroll. You sit on his lap prettily, but you still manage to cling onto him like a koala.

He narrows his eyes at you, before sighing softly at the tiny kiss you give him on his cheek, “You’re a handful, y’know that?”

It doesn’t take long for him to reciprocate that little kiss of yours, landing his thin lips on your cherub-like cheek.

[starvingwiththestars]

looking at cvtspo kinda makes me hungry tbh

[ari-freeworld]

'*•♡Finding Space In Your Heart ♡•*'

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02 - Revved And Ready

Pairing - Biker/Roommate!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

An - AHH! Thanks for so much love on part one, here's the next one, lmk how you like it! xoxox

Summary - After Kirishima moves in with his girlfriend, Mina, Bakugou finds himself in need of a new roommate. He’s on the hunt for someone who can tolerate his loud (and expensive) Ducati, his odd hours at the mechanic shop, and who is fairly tidy and able to pay their share of the rent. After having no luck finding the right person, his long-time friends Mina and Kirishima suggest an old friend of Mina's—enter you, a young professional writer looking for a place to live during your partnership with a publishing company.

Notes/warnings - Qurikless AU, aged up characters, slight flirting, Slow build up (eventual smut).

wrds - 1.9k

01 , 03

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How the hell did I get here? you wonder to yourself.

You’re currently seated on Bakugou’s Ducati, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Your chest is pressed against his back, feeling the hard muscles shift with every movement. The rumble of the engine vibrates through your body, adding to the adrenaline rush.

He hadn’t planned on taking anyone on his bike tonight, so he gave you his helmet. Despite not drinking, he felt a strange, fluttery sensation in his stomach. The way you were clutching onto him, the way your body pressed against his—it was driving him wild. His initial plan was driven by a raw surge of attraction, a visceral response to your beauty and proximity. His heart pounded, and he couldn’t shake the thought of your body so close to his.

As he revved the engine, you tightened your grip, your fingers digging into his sides. The night air was cool against your skin, contrasting with the heat radiating from his body. Every turn, every acceleration brought you closer, your thighs gripping the bike, the wind whipping past you both.

This ride was supposed to be practical, a simple trip to show you the apartment, but with every mile, the tension between you grew. When he finally pulled up to his apartment, he cut the engine and sat there for a moment, feeling your heartbeat against his back. Reluctantly, you released him and removed the helmet, your hair falling in disarray. He turned to you, his eyes dark with a mix of intensity and something else—a hunger he tried to suppress.

“Ready, princess?” he asked, his voice rough.

You nodded, your own pulse quickening as you followed him inside, knee trying not to buckle at his new nickname for you. The quiet of the building was a stark contrast to the noise of the bar and the ride. The elevator ride to his floor was silent, the tension between you palpable.

When you reached his apartment, he unlocked the door and gestured for you to enter first. The place was impressive—spacious, with an open layout and large windows that offered a stunning view of the city. The decor was minimalistic but stylish, a mix of dark colors and sleek furniture. It was much tidier than you had expected, and you felt a sense of relief.

“It’s really nice,” you said, genuinely impressed. “Definitely better than I expected.”

“Yeah, s’alright,” he replied bluntly. “Spare room’s down the hall. Want to see it?”

You nodded, following him as he led you to the room. It was a decent size, with a large window and a good amount of closet space. You could easily see yourself living there.

“This’ll work,” you said, turning to him. “It’s perfect, actually.”

“Good,” he said, stepping closer. “We can sort shit out later. S’yours if you want it.”

"Thank you, Bakugou," you added sincerely, meeting his gaze. "I mean it. You're really helping me out of a tough spot here."

A flicker of something softer passed through his eyes before he masked it with his usual gruff demeanor.

"Yeah, well, don't mention it," he mumbled, almost uncomfortably. He turned abruptly, leading you back to the living room, but the atmosphere had shifted slightly, now tinged with a new, albeit subtle, camaraderie.

As both of you took a seat on the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, he found himself increasingly drawn to your voice, your stories. Initially driven by a simple physical attraction, Bakugou was now grappling with an unexpected shift in his feelings. The more you spoke, the more he found himself genuinely interested in what you had to say—something he hadn't anticipated at all.

“So, why’d you take this job?” Bakugou asked, his tone still blunt but with a hint of curiosity.

You leaned back, thinking for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to be a writer. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a kid. When this opportunity came up, I couldn’t say no, even if it meant moving and dealing with all the stress.”

He nodded, considering your words. “Better be worth all the trouble it’s giving ya.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “What about you? Why’d you move here?”

He shrugged, leaning back against the couch. “Needed a change. This place is close to my shop, and the city has its perks. Plus, wanted a fresh start.”

You could sense there was more to his story, but you didn’t push. “It’s a good place for a fresh start.”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes meeting yours with a fervor that made your heart skip a beat. Each minute spent in conversation with you subtly shifted his initial intentions, replacing lust with a genuine connection that surprised him as much as it intrigued him.

As the conversation continued, you noticed how easy it was to talk to him. The initial tension slowly gave way to a more comfortable, natural flow. You laughed at his blunt remarks and shared your own stories, feeling a connection grow between you. Bakugou seemed to struggle with his words a few times, his rough exterior cracking just slightly as if he wanted to keep the conversation going but wasn’t sure how. You caught him glancing at you, opening his mouth to speak, then closing it again.

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed with a message from Mina, asking where you both ran off to and reminding you of the time. You sighed, realizing you had to leave.

“I should probably get going,” you said, standing up reluctantly.

“I’ll take you,” Bakugou replied, his tone firm but almost disappointed. He walked you to the door, the tension between you still thick and heavy.

As you turned to thank him, he stepped closer, his gaze intense. “Let me have your number,” he paused, then added in a low voice, “Make things easier.”

You quickly swapped phones, entering your contact details. His fingers brushed against yours as you handed the phones back, the brief touch sending a shiver down your spine.

He followed you back down to his bike, the ride home quieter and more reflective. The city lights flickered by, and you held onto him just as tightly, but this time with a sense of anticipation and excitement about what was to come.

When he pulled up to your place, you climbed off the bike, feeling the cool night air once again. You slowly handed him the helmet, not wanting the night to end.

Bakugou looked like he wanted to say something more, but he simply took the helmet. “Thanks for the ride,” you said softly.

“S’no problem,” he replied, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he rode off into the night.

As you headed inside, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the start of something new and exciting.

--------------------------------------------------------------

In the days that followed, contact between you and Bakugou went from occasional to constant as you discussed logistics and plans for your move. Your conversations, initially about practical matters like furniture arrangements and lease agreements, gradually ventured into more personal territory. Your friends were delighted to hear that you and Bakugou were able to help each other out. 

You packed up your things, taking care to wrap each memory in bubble wrap, and finally shared the great news with your parents. They were overjoyed to learn of your upcoming move and the new chapter it heralded. With their blessing and a few heartwarming encouragements, you felt ready to take this significant step.

The day of the move came faster than you had anticipated. Bakugou showed up early in the morning, his shop’s truck loaded with empty boxes and packing supplies. As you loaded each box, the physical proximity and shared tasks created a pace that made the hours fly by. However, there were moments, fleeting yet charged, when your hands brushed while passing a box or your eyes met and lingered a fraction too long over a shared joke. Each accidental touch sent a jolt of awareness through you, the air thick with something unspoken.

Bakugou, surprisingly adept at handling your belongings with care, made the process smoother than you had imagined. He directed the placement of your bed and desk, occasionally brushing past you, his presence unsettlingly warm. Each time he came close, the scent of his cologne, a mix of leather and something indefinably masculine, seemed to draw you in, making it hard to focus on the task at hand.

Moving into the new apartment was a whirlwind of activity. Bakugou was surprisingly helpful, lifting the heaviest boxes as if they were filled with feathers and deftly assembling furniture with the skill of a seasoned craftsman. He moved with a confident grace that was all too captivating. His forearms flexed as he tightened screws, and every so often, he'd look up to catch you watching, a half-smirk forming on his lips as if he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

The day passed in a flash, with both of you setting up the essential spaces. By evening, the apartment looked more like home. As you both stood in the middle of your living room, a sense of accomplishment washed over you. Bakugou wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and instinctively darted his tongue out to moisten his dry lips. Watching him, you couldn’t help but be captivated by his beauty, desire stirring within you. 

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” you replied, breaking the silence, genuinely grateful for his help. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

He shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the effort he had put in. “Just don’t make me regret it, yeah?”

You laughed, and he cracked a small grin, the atmosphere light and easy. However, the air between you was charged, each laugh and glance weaving a deeper web of intimacy. As you both sat down on the couch, taking in the view of the city through your large windows, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the room. The transition from being just acquaintances to roommates had begun seamlessly, with each day bringing a deeper understanding of one another. As night fell and the city lights flickered to life, you knew with certainty that moving in with Bakugou was not just a practical decision, but one that might just redefine the path of your friendship, hinting at desires that were becoming harder to ignore.

Exhausted yet satisfied with the day's efforts, you decided to freshen up. Standing in front of the mirror, brushing your hair while clad only in your underwear, you were lost in thought when Bakugou, thinking to offer some towels, inadvertently opened the door, which you forgot to lock. Steam billowed out, enveloping him as his eyes locked onto yours. The initial shock quickly gave way to a smoldering look of desire. His pants tightened at the sight of you, his throat went dry, and although he struggled, he managed to maintain a steady voice.

“Nice panties, princess,” he remarked, his voice low and firm, his intense gaze not wavering. He leaned casually against the doorframe, unabashedly taking in the view.

"Seriously, Bakugou?" you responded, your tone a mix of amusement and mild rebuke. You tugged the door towards you to shield yourself more fully, yet his gaze remained locked with yours.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he continued, his voice now laced with a playful apology and a hint of mischief. "But I'm not complaining. It's not every day I get greeted like this." He flashed a roguish grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Finally, he stepped back, giving you space to close the door completely. His chuckle lingered in the air, a rich sound that echoed down the hall as he retreated. As you closed the door with a soft click, the brief encounter sparked a shared excitement, both of you eager to discover what the future held for your new living arrangement.

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Tagsss - @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @uhnanix @sweetadonisbutbetter @daniwasnothere

Lmk if you want to be added :)

[livinggxd3adgirl]

“I hope you answer”

a/n: hey my luvs this is pure angst! Hope you enjoy this standalone. Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

wrd count: 1.4k (sorry this is one of my more longer fics!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you and sukuna had been married for 2 years before you had fallen pregnant with his heir. Sukuna was very hands-on with your pregnancy. He made sure that all the servants treated you with kindness and compassion. He spent most days by your side; one of his four arms protectively rested on your round belly.

When you finally gave birth to his son, he truly was so happy. His son was the spitting image of sukuna. The baby boy was born a happy, cute little version of the large and intimidating Sukuna. Sukuna would hold you both tightly at night. He never wanted these moments to end.. but his world came crashing down when your son's 5th birthday rolled around.

“Blow out the candles and make a wish, baby!” You clapped as you watched your son's eyes glint with happiness. He inhales deeply before blowing the candles out with a loud huff. Sukuna sat beside you, his usual smirk on full display.

Your son looked at Sukuna filled with hope and happiness. “Guess what I wished for pops” your son's toothy grin on full display. Even the way he smiled resembled Sukuna.

“What’d your wish for brat?” Sukuna asks cheekily. Little did he know this would be the last time he would ever see his son smile at him.

“I wanna kill people and villages just like you!” You knew your son didn’t truly know what he was saying. He was only repeating the hush whispers of the servants. You chuckle awkwardly before turning to sukuna. His grin was off his face. Instead, it was replaced with a look of shock and.. guilt?

“You don’t wanna be like me, brat. Be like your mother.” Sukuna never wanted his son to be like him. In all truth, it made his heart ache at even the thought that his sons future choices would mirror Sukunas own. He wanted much more than bloodshed for his son.

Your son pouted when his father replied back to him. “Why would I want to be like mommy? She’s so boring” Your son rolled his eyes. Your son was genuinely confused why sukuna did not want that life for him. He thought that’s what all parents wanted? Right?

“Don’t say that about you, mother kid. She protects you and loves you” Sukuna wanted his son to be exactly like you. Kindhearted and emotionally intelligent. Not a damned bastard like Sukuna.

“Well I want to be like you, pops!” Your son yelled at his father. It caused sukuna to flinch. Not because he was scared, but because for a second, he saw himself in your son. And fuck did it scare him shitless.

“ [s/n] do not yell at your father” you quickly shushed your son. Your son was quick to retort back. But Sukuna held his hand up to signal that his son needed to stop talking.

“Do you want to be a fucking monster like me? Cause if that’s so I can show you what’s it’s truly like being a damn monster-“ your sons face immediately turned into horror. His father was always gentle with him (in his own way)

“Sukuna stop it-“ you interrupted him.

Sukuna looked at your son sternly. “He needs to know what path he is choosing- the screams of all the people will haunt you even in the best of days you will never be-“

You see the tears threaten to fall from your son's eyes. You quickly pull him into your chest and turn to sukuna. “Stop it, sukuna! He’s just a boy!”. At this point, your son was crying in your arms.

Before sukuna even knew it, he had officially broken his family apart. That was never his intention; he just wanted to make sure that his son knew. That he knew his father was truly a bastard. You and your son were sukuna saving grace sent from the heavens just for him.

Your son looked up at his father before mumbling a small. “I hate you, dad, you really are a monster”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How are you, mom?” Your son sat in front of you. He was now 17. It had been officially 12 years since the last time he had seen Sukuna.

“I’m fine baby, now tell me all about your travels” your son had decided he wanted to travel the past year and he just returned from his travels.

“It was good, ma..” Your son rarely ever got quiet.

“What is bothering you, hmm? You never get quiet. You're a chatterbox like me” You give your son a reassuring smile. Your son lets out a deep sigh before speaking

“I met a man named satoru on my travels, he said he’d be willing to take you and me in.” Your son knew that you had never thought of leaving the temple.

“Your father would freak out if I left the temple, honey.. but if it’s what you wish to do, I will support you” You give his hand a reassuring pat.

“Dammit ma why don’t you just leave the damn bastard? He doesn’t care about either of us. He’s nothing but a selfish cunning piece of sh-“

“Honey don’t talk about him like that, I know you don’t like your father, but he truly wants what’s best for you” you interrupted your son from continuing. It truly broke your heart to see all the anger he had for his father.

“Yeah sure mom, cause leaving me and you for the last 12 years is what was best for me” Your son was sick of seeing you defend him. In his mind, sukuna was never there .He always believed that sukuna just stopped caring after that day. But the truth? Sukuna was always there; just in silence. Ever since that day, Sukuna thought that if his son didn’t see him, then maybe he would save him from the same fate Sukuna had…

And Sukuna was right but at the cost of his son and you.

Your son exhaled before grabbing your hands. Your son truly looked exactly like Sukuna. In all honesty, it had been years since you and Sukuna had touched. Sukuna thought that maybe he needed to save you too from himself.

“Ma you deserve better than this..” As your son spoke, you couldn’t help the tears from flowing out. Your son moved to sit next to you. Now, he pulled you into his chest. “You’ve always been the strongest person I know, ma, you deserve better than my father”

“Your father isn’t evil honey, he’s done bad things for sure but… he just wanted to save you from himself.. he never wanted you to be like him.. this was the only way he could do it. He had to push us away to save you from him.” You look up at your son.

Your son took in your words, but it didn’t make him feel any better. For the rest of his life, he had to live with the face of a bastard. He looked exactly like the man who was never there. Your son had tried time and time again to reach out to his father, but he never got a response. All the letters he wrote that would never see a response felt like a slap to the face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unbeknownst to you, your son had seen sukuna one more time after his 5th birthday. Your son was 11 and rowdy. He was playing in the hallway. He wasn't allowed in per sukunas orders. Sukuna heard the loud racket, causing him to step out of his chambers.

“Shut the hell up” Sukunas deep voice reverberated through the empty hall. Sukuna looked like a dead body. His eyebags were deep, pale skin, but even then, he was still intimidating.

Your son's head snapped to look at his father “pops! I haven’t seen you in so long!” Your son's toothy smile and radiant smile reminded sukuna too much of what he gave up. “Did you see my letters pops?”

“I burned them.” Sukuna spoke before your son could say anything again. Before your son could say anything back, a woman’s voice could be heard.

“Come back, my lord!” The annoyingly high-pitched voice was followed by a small giggle. Sukuna turns his head to glance into his chambers.

“I’ll be there in a minute” Sukuna looked back down at his son. “Go back to your mother, kid, and don’t tell her what you heard. Am I understood?” Sukuna looked like he loathed him. His own son, who even after years of complete silence, still searched for his approval.

“Understood.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The memory forever seared into your son's mind. He never told you about what he saw that day. Not to protect Sukuna but to protect your heart. “It’s time to move on, ma..”

[meshiinuma]

type

relationship: poly satosugu x reader

desc: clearly satoru has a type + bed time

wrd cnt: 3.3k

warnings: the reader is so fucking specific . like theyre chubby, brown, have glasses, dark hair, n dark eyes. sorry 2 anyone who isnt that HJSJDHSJ, gn reader, fluff

a(shley's)/n: first post whoopie !! also . chubby sugubooboo REALNESS !!!!!!! visit sometime is being worked on PROMISEEE its at 12k words rn n its only the first chapter [im planning on writing the rest of the chapters b4 publishing bcuz i feel bad abandoning things so its probs gonna b over 300k by the time im done w the whole thing . sigh.] ok. enjoy . [also u can tell whos my favorite]

the tiny couch the three of you crammed onto every evening felt incredibly warm. it did every day.

suguru was on the farthest left (when you’re sitting on the couch and facing the tv in front of it), laying back on the couch with a pillow underneath his head. satoru was on the farthest right, using the armrest as a prop for his head and playing on his nintendo switch. you were leaning back on suguru’s stomach, on your phone.

gurgle! grrk! 

“your stomach’s talking shit about you, suguru.” you warned, scrolling through the comments on a post.

“what’s it saying?” he asked offhandedly, turning a page.

“‘s gonna kill you man.” 

“crazy…” he trailed off and you noticed his reading glasses slipping down his nose slowly.

you pulled yourself up his body and pushed them up with your pointer finger, then laid a kiss against the apple of his cheek.

suguru looked down at you, dark brown eyes so clear you could see yourself reflected in them almost. he put a pretty bookmark with a nice yellow tassel between the pages and set it on the side table.

“now what do you from me? hm?” he drew you fully to his chest where he started to nip at your cheeks and jaw. giggle “kisses sugu! gimme kisses!” you exclaimed as he started to lay light kisses from the tippy top of your head down to your collarbone. everywhere his lips touched made little sparks fly under your skin, love flooding through every vein in your body at suguru’s affection.

you kept giggling with suguru, returning his little kisses, straddling his thighs, and wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“ewww!” satoru suddenly interjected. looking behind you, your third was sticking his tongue out and powering his switch off, “get a room,” he said and tried to crawl between you and suguru. 

“what are you- ack!” satoru nestled himself sideways in the little pocket of space between and was already half hanging off the couch. suguru got elbowed a bit.

you pulled back and sat on your haunches to let satoru get comfortable, “everything good?” you asked, waiting for him to finish wriggling around, “it’d be better if you could get down here…” he asked and gazed at you over his shoulder coquettishly. the look made your stomach suddenly combust into a horde of butterflies that expressed themselves through possessing your body and draping yourself over your two lovers.

satoru got a kiss on the little circle at the top of his head where his hair grew from and a bit of scalp shone through, “better?” quietly suguru mumbled into the air. 

“mhm…” was satoru’s response.

you shifted around to get satoru and suguru in your sights at the same time, enraptured with the beauty of your lovers. if you lost the ability to see them everyday, you think you’d sob inconsolably.

eventually, you shoved yourself into the space between suguru and the back cushions, finding the best view. 

suguru had slid further down the couch, fully using the arm rest as a pillow with eyes closed and glasses firmly placed at eye level. satoru faced the tv, eyes closed as well, and was clutching suguru’s arm wrapped around him.

and then you. 

you glanced up to see a vague shape of your body reflected in the dark tv screen, a part of a blob of skin and other various hues. the final piece to the puzzle.

as you settled into the warmth of suguru’s chest (his arm went around you straight away, no looking) and wrapped your arm around satoru’s shoulder (he grabbed it and tucked it close to his chest), you faintly realized something.

“you have a type satoru,” you said quietly.

out of the corner of your eye you saw suguru’s eye peek open.

“no i don’t?” he rolled in place to face you, hot breath fanning over your exposed arm.

“yeah you do.” this time you were looking directly into his eyes, challenging his denial.

“oh yeah? what’s my type?” satoru fired back, cocky sounding.

“dark hair, dark eyes, glasses, brown skin, chubby, and a little mean to you.” that seemed to shut him up, suguru’s eyes fully open and filled with mirth.

“...dunno what you’re talking ‘bout…” satoru pouted at being found out so quickly. 

“think about it! i have dark hair, suguru has dark hair. suguru has dark eyes, i have dark eyes. we both wear glasses-”

“not all the time!” at satoru’s interjection, you and suguru shared a look and stared back down at him.

“...nevermind. continue.” 

“we’re both brown and chubby-” as you said this, you moved satoru’s hands up to yours and your dark haired lovers stomachs, making him squeeze them a bit. satoru blushed.

“and we’re mean to you! it’s like me and sugu are the same people, it’s crazy.” you finished and looked up at suguru for approval on your insight.

“they’re not wrong,” he added, “and we’re dating each other, so it’s like how people are attracted to similar personalities.”

satoru shook himself out of the brief pull you and suguru had on him, “then what does that say about you two for dating me?” he asked genuinely.

“hmm…” you held your chin, submerging into deep thought.

“oh! we like annoying guys like you!” suguru replied for the two of you.

“yeah!” 

now satoru really was pouting.

“but we love you for it ‘toru! its cute!” you amended, pulling his face towards you so you could pepper him with kisses.

suguru joined in and wrapped his arms around the two of you, giving satoru kisses all over his head.

“haha! okay, okay!” satoru’s face was tinged pink all the way up to his scalp and his smile stretched wide. you think his eyes were glowing twice as much, filled to the brim with emotion.

“getting shy?” suguru mumbled coyly into his ear. satoru looked away bashfully and his face turned five shades deeper, “no…” 

you planted a wet kiss right on his burning cheek mwah!, “cutie…now go turn the tv on,” you said with a snicker as the red slowly faded from satoru’s face.

“really?” he grumbled, but got up anyway to turn the tv on and grab the remote.

“thank youuu!” you cooed when satoru came back and rewarded his efforts with a kiss right at the junction between his neck and jaw.

he just mumbled something and cuddled back into you and suguru. the top of his head was a bit red.

“what do you wanna watch?” you asked.

“i demand...netflix!” satoru exclaimed and raised the remote high above his head. 

at the same time, you and suguru spoke, “alright.” satoru looked back, “jeez maybe you two are the same person…” 

you brushed the comment off and urged him to pick something to watch. satoru chose a k-drama series he was halfway through and started from the beginning, “just for you two! no one else,” he said and put the remote on the side table.

*

an hour or two later, the three of you reached the point satoru had gotten to. or rather the two of you, as satoru had fallen asleep after the first episode and was snoring into suguru’s hockey jersey sleeve. 

suguru had his head turned and was just staring at the screen, a bit bored looking.

you had both your hands buried under his jersey, absentmindedly kneading at the pudge lining his midsection and brushing his happy trail back and forth, “ready to sleep?” the question was gently whispered by you, taking care not to wake satoru. 

“yeah,” suguru said, moving the hand that was caressing your back to the back of your head and kissed your crown. he turned around to reach the remote, but you stopped him.

“wait! wait!” you protested quietly, “i can get it.” suguru gave you a skeptical look, “okay…”

and then you fully shoved yourself under his oversized st. louis blues jersey.

“wh- hey!” he patted your back, trying to track your wriggling body. you shoved your arm through the neck hole and scrambled for the remote behind suguru’s head. 

once you finally got a hold on the plastic device, you pointed it at the tv, “can you pause it and turn the tv off?” 

sigh “you know? i don’t think you and i are alike at all.” his hand engulfed yours and clicked around a bit before the remote was slipped away from your hand.

“you’re so warm sugu…” you slurred, the feeling of being comfortable and lack of sleep getting to you.

underneath suguru’s jersey, you were surrounded on all sides by warmth. 

above you was the white of his jersey, underneath you was his warm and fuzzy torso, and radiating all around you was warmth. you snuggled into the artificial embrace, kicking your legs underneath his.

then suguru suddenly yanked the top of his jersey above your head.

cold flooded straight into your bones. you expressed this with a shiver and tightening your fetal position on suguru’s midsection.

“c’mon. up.” he urged you up and off the couch, slinging satoru over a broad shoulder.

“you can cuddle when we’re in bed, alright?” he held your face in the palm of his very big hand and tilted his head to the side a bit, “yeah,” you said, a bit spacey at the thought of being cuddled up to one of the men of your dreams (you get to paw and chew at him like a dog every night, but that didn’t mean it felt like a bit of a privilege to haul suguru around in bed like that). 

he kissed your head, “good.” and trodded off to the bedroom with his two lovers in tow, of course. 

suguru laid satoru on the bed first and caressed the side of his face with the back of his hand. the love that suguru exercised for you and satoru shocked you to your core sometimes. it was easy to forget the gentle touches amidst all the roughhousing shared between the three of you.

after he leaned down and laid a featherlight kiss between satoru’s eyes, he looked up at you.

“ready?” 

without waiting for a response, he glided to the bathroom. assured in your ability to follow.

a quick pit stop was made before you joined suguru in the bathroom. you hovered over satoru’s slumbering body, clad in an oversized band tee acquired the summer before and basketball shorts from suguru (maybe. possibly. it’s gotten hard to tell over the years). he looked beautiful with the moonlight flooding through the huge window next to the bed. 

with the same gentleness suguru possessed, light fingers skimmed across his forehead and drew his hair away from his eyes. you planted a big wet kiss right at the center of his temples.

that stirred him awake.

“mngh…” his eyes fluttered open, but eventually decided to close.

“go back to sleep for me baby, ‘kay?” you whispered into his ear, already holding the top of the thirty pound weighted blanket satoru slept with every night.

once satoru settled down again, you tiptoed to the bathroom, light already on underneath the door. 

“hi,” you said at a volume less than normal. 

suguru had his jersey sleeves rolled up and was applying face cream when you walked in, “hey.” he replied in kind, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and went back to making sure all of the product reached every nook and cranny of his face.

you slithered behind him and wrapped your arms around his cinched waist. you squeezed a little, making suguru wheeze a bit unexpectedly, an inside joke from before any romance entered your lives.

then your hands dipped above the hem of his jersey, still craving body heat.

“if you tickle me, i’ll punch you.” he warned, looking back at you over his shoulder. 

if you were to be on the receiving end of any of suguru’s attacks while he does martial arts training, you think you’d ascend to something higher than heaven. 

you didn’t say that though. all you did was look up at him dopily and smile, “okay.”

he looked at you suspiciously and went back to finishing his nightly routine. maybe you should start on your own as well. but what kept you from pulling away wasn’t the wonderful texture of suguru’s body, no, it was him expanding and deflating his chest in a timely manner.

he was breathing. and you were right there feeling that. 

this was real. the fact you got to wake up everyday, be with your two lovers, come home to a warm couch, and hold the people you love like this all the time made you feel like puking. in a good way.

suguru was completely oblivious to the lovey-dovey thoughts circling your head. he had moved on to dental care and was currently on the last step, scraping his tongue. 

you watched him through the mirror, sighing and swooning over every little action he made. the way he flexed a bit when he pressed the metal scraper on the back of his tongue, the way nails covered in flaking black polish pried the storage for the scraper open, the way he reapplied pomegranate chapstick, the way he turned to you with a look he only reserves for you and satoru, the way his mouth moved-

wait. his mouth is moving?

you snapped yourself out of your stupor and tuned back into the conversation.

“-and then we can sleep, don’t want to keep satoru waiting.” 

yeah, you have no clue what he’s talking about.

you tilted your head, a little smile teasing your lips, “what’d you say?”

suguru’s face fell from something loving and soft into a deadpan, the reading glasses he still had on emphasized his disappointment.

“you’re such a bad listener, you know that right?” he grabbed his bottle of amla hair oil (almost empty, you’d need to stop by the international grocery store to get more soon) and placed it on the counter.

“i just need you to oil my hair for me, it’s been getting a little dry.” a simple request you’ve fulfilled many times before.

you don’t think suguru needed a verbal response with the way you pulled out the shower stool stored under the sink and patted the seat, urging him to take a seat.

he sat down and tugged the hair tie holding his half bun in place. a bad habit suguru has is leaving his hair ties anywhere and everywhere, today was no exception.

suguru flicked the scrunchie away somewhere in the bathroom and let his lovely tresses fall down his back. 

one of you would get that. later. 

for now, you wanted to focus on suguru’s dying and unhydrated hair (it wasn’t that bad, just felt a little rough in your hands is all).

the motion of pouring oil onto your hands, rubbing them together, then starting at the roots was a well practiced routine. oftentimes, you and satoru would tackle suguru’s full head of hair at the same time to split the workload and provide the man with a relieving head massage. 

unfortunately, satoru’s incapacitated state on the bed meant he couldn’t help out this time. whatever. you’d get all the kisses and cuddles from suguru as a reward later.

you finally started to get to the ends of his hair, a particularly dried section.

“careful with the oil, don’t want it to stain my shirt.” he says that every time. 

and you were careful. every time.

suguru’s hair was freshly oiled and you dried your hands with a hand towel hanging on the towel rack while your boyfriend pulled on his long satin bonnet. he started to walk out of the bathroom before you remembered something, “!”

he turned around at the doorway, “what?”

“i forgot to do my own routine,” you said, turning to the vanity and picking out what you needed for the night.

“i can wait.” suguru closed the door and slumped onto the toilet seat cover.

“you don’t have to-” 

“i’m staying.” he leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes.

you just rolled your eyes and started your night routine.

the silence between the two of you was nice. all that filled the quiet was the low hum of the bathroom fan. (you missed the way suguru was eyeing you with hooded eyes and a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he really loves you.)

by the time you finished, suguru had gone back to his stationary position with his eyes closed. you admired him and then leaned down to nuzzle your head against the crown of his head, his eyes opened pretty fast after that.

you laid a sweet kiss right against his lips, the fruity taste from his chapstick transferring to your own. then to tease him, you licked a little stripe up the center of his lips, coating his ashley piercing in spit.

“blegh! don’t do that!” and he smacked you away as you giggled.

suguru stood up and started to walk ahead of you, “i think the lack of sleep is getting to your head…” 

“whatever.” you turned the bathroom light off and closed the door behind you.

you threw yourself onto the bed and writhed in place a bit, trying to find the best sleeping position. on the contrary, suguru sat on the bed, swung his legs around, and tucked himself under the edge of the blanket pretty fast.

eventually, you found a good position. your back was to suguru’s front and you were curled facing satoru’s sleeping front. this was what you settled on every night.

but despite how tired you were, something in you still made you want to twist and turn in place like a worm. just to get all the energy out.

behind you, suguru was setting the digital alarm clock on the nightstand for some ungodly time in the morning (so he can get his workout routine out of the way). you found your perfect victim.

you pounced on suguru as softly as you could (once he turned around of course, you’d feel bad if he fell off the bed) and smothered him in kisses. 

“hi, hey, what’s up?” he sounded like he was trying not to giggle and laugh too loudly, for fear of waking up satoru.

“i dunno.” you teased and peppered featherlight kisses from the bottom of his frames down to his little double chin, giving him a big kiss where it dipped down the most. (a little freckle was right next to it. your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet, but you knew it was there.)

suguru returned your affections with kisses on your cheeks that pushed so far you could feel the pressure on your tongue. you snickered bashfully and kicked your legs a little.

after that, all the fight and energy left you in favor of fatigue slipping into the cracks. you flopped beside suguru and gave him a final kiss on his right temple, “love you.” you whispered.

he turned your body around so you were back on your side and facing satoru. “love you back.” suguru whispered and kissed the back of your head.

you missed your third dearly. so in tandem, you and suguru reached out to pull satoru into your combined warmth.

at the same time, you and suguru each gave him a kiss at random points on his head, whispering the same thing, “love you so much.”

satoru woke up at the combined affection. just enough to finish the final step before sleep could claim you. he leaned forward enough to brush his lips against your nose, “love you baby.” then he reached as far as he could and kissed suguru’s neck, “love you su.” and he collapsed in front of you, back to sleep.

suguru shifted behind you, something clacking around on the side table. he put his fingers around the bridge of your glasses and folded them carefully. they clacked next to his.

your eyes closed as a big warm arm laid across your waist and extended outwards to the body in front of you.

[cupidscrule]

BUNNY TRAP

Stepdad!Leon X Fem!Reader

Cw - p in v, daughter chasing after dad, stepcest, noncon(?) Unprotected

WRD- 1.5k

You always knew your dad was hot, total babe back in the 2000's ever since you were a kid your friends always gushed over him, and it was fair, always thought it was gross though. Like he's YOUR dad, stepdad yeah but he still raised you, sure he had a cute face, big arms, his pornstar tits were an add on. But he was Dad, nothin' more, But fuck the way he cups your cheek when your sad, hugs you, gives you that awkward Dad kiss. Just makes you yearn for him, which is wrong you know it's wrong but it's like that itch.

Your friends are always tellin' you how lucky you are, not only is Dad hot, he's nice y'know? Real good dad, picks you up everyday, gets you real nice things. Best guy honestly can see why Mom picked him!

"Hi kiddo, you wanted to check out that new place-?" Dad said opening your bedroom door, stupid fucken smile on his dumb hot face

'bury your face in my tits'

"Oh no -! It's okay- really I'm real tired"

'fuck me till I can't breathe'

"Huh- alright, come down soon dinners gonna be ready, and sorry Moms not home yet she said she'd be here in a few weeks 'k?"

'i wanna scream your name'

"Oh it's alright, and of course dad!"

With that he left, shutting the door halfway, dick move but it probably wasn't on purpose, the smell of his colone in the room, only imagining Dad stuff you up. God your disgusting, this is dad. Fourth something year old DAD, since when did you have these thoughts about him, as a kid sure you always thought he was cute 'ohhb I would totally date someone as big and strong as my Daddy!'

But it was LIKE, not actually him. But you can't stop thinkin' about him, wanting Dad to shove your face in the mattress pull on your hair, do the shit they do in pornos. Nasty thoughts, feeling gross and hot imagining all the shit you wanna do with the poor guy, as he just stood there not knowin' thinking your his innocent little daughter who could do no wrong! Oh no she would never have sex before marriage! Oh no my little girl doesn't even cuss!

Yeah right Dad, mhm. Actin' like in middle school my friends weren't blushing over you, whenever you walked in.

Fucken idiot, your little girls not pure, she's not good. She ain't innocent, hell she fantasizes about fucken you every day. It doesn't matter, nothings ever gonna come of this right? Just walk downstairs, eat dinner with dad and go back in your room and sleep it off.

"Sweetiee you finnaly came, how was your day?" Dad says sitting across from you, he didn't even cook. Fucken liar this was clearly some bullshit from a 4 star restaurant he just put on a plate. "Oh it's fine, nothin' much." You say staring at the table, trying to distract yourself from him, how he smells, how he sits, how he opens his mouth, the way he moves his bangs out of his dumb face, his breath. The intoxicating feeling of just bein' near him now.

"Are you okay?"

"Why'd you ask that? You know I'm always fine-" you say in response, playing with your fingers, avoiding his gaze. God feels like a crush in primary school, messin' up words and giggling to your friends about the fastest guy. "You just don't seem like yourselfer Hun, you can always talk to me you know that?" He says, feeling his eyes on you, not in a creepy way more an endearing way which somehow made your entire situation worse. "yeah- I know, don't worry it's fine!" You mumble, lookin' up at him, god he really was dreamy, just wanting him to- NO no more fantasy's.

You finish up, so does he. He just gives you that concerned Dad look before you get up and run back up the stairs like a bitch and lock yourself in your room, typing into Google

'how to stop liking your dad'

'is it normal to have a crush on your dad'

'is it illegal to fuck your step dad'

Jesus Christ your search history, just laying on your side in your bed. Thighs squeezed together tryna' stop thinking about dad, you've seen him shirtless before. Yeah you felt a little hot in your core before, anytime he hugged you you felt so- just so warm. Not the lovey Awee dad and daughter warm, more like if your boyfriend hugged you nice and tight! Feels good, feels warm and fuzzy, pit in your stomach that can only be filled by one thing.

Tossin' and turnin' it's only 6:00pm shit, Dad's still downstairs probobly watching some old movie, he really likes thoughs for some reason, and westerns it's kinda creepy but your the one who wants to fuck him so you really can't be judging. your thoughts are too much to bare, a girl can only last so long on the edge, panties soaked thinking about shit, and hell when you can actually recreate what you want, Nothing's stopping you. Other then ethics but who even cares anymore, walking downstairs to Dear ol' Daddy, bingo.

"Mm- Dad-? Can I talk to you?" You mutter walking up behind the sofa he's laying in, playing with your fingers, how do even address this like,

'Oh yeah dad! Can you just bend your daughter over and fuck her till she's blubbering nonsense, you raised her since she was seven but y'know !!'

No.

"Hm, yeah of course, what's the problem bunny?" He says sitting up, glancing behind him to your miserable face, little frown on your lips. He raises a brow seeing your face, you felt all fuzzy feeling your throat get dry, the hell were you supposed to do?

"Uh Dad, can- can you come upstairs" you mutter looking at him, feeling your chest get heavy. Of course dear Daddy doesn't wanna disappoint you so he gets up and walks over to ya

"What's wrong, Hun?" He says, so sweetly fuck. Looken' all concerned for you, just fall into his chest, even though Dad was in shape he had fatass boobs, real nice to put your face in whenever he hugged ya. Just like always as a concerted Daddy does he puts an arm around you, pulling you nice and tight, "Baby?" He says in that same voice, pullin' your face away from his body, looking down at you.

"Can- can we just sit down" you say grabbing his hand forcefully and leading him to the nice leather sofa, you didn't know much about Mom but she really liked expensive shit and this was the only thing at home she bought..

You push him onto his back, his head resting on the arm, he looked kinda confused, like a puppy! You crawl over on top on him, ass rested on his lower pelvis. "Hey Bunny this is a little- whats wrong?" Dad says trying to carefully lift you off of him, awe stupid Daddy actin' like you're just gonna listen to him

"Dad just let me do this- please, you love me right?" You say looking at him in the eyes, pout on your stupid lips, he just nods slowly as a response. Unzippin' his jeans, wow this really is a shitty porno plot.

'Cute stepdaughter seduces and fucks her Dad while Mom isn't home!'

Jesus Christ you fucking creep.

With his pants open pulling out is fat cock, he wasn't hard which kinda hurt, you were being all cute and all dad did was just sit and stare in shock. Like sure you were gropen him and stuff but he could put some effort in it? Whatever doesn't matter-? You sit on his thighs pulling off your night pants, your panties were already wet from earlier, sadly it seemed Dad didn't really wanna reinact your fantasy so you gotta do all the work, flicking your garments to the side, crawling back onto him. Placing your hips over his Dick, and taking it in, feeling his tip touch your cervix "Mm- fuck-" you murmer, taking a second before getting used to it, slowly moving your hips back and forth, feeling ever little movement. It was euphoric, hands on his chest, looking at his face he looked like he was trying to not enjoy it, but you could tell he was. You felt his breath get heavier anytime you went faster, such a good boy.

His fat dick bruising your womb, your walls squeezing against him, you could hear Dad muttering curse words under his breath, made you feel kinda better about this whole thing. Going to your high and getting that numbing feeling, stomach felt warm, brain all fuzzy and messy collapsing onto him, feeling that warm stuff leaking out of you, pulling yourself off Dad, laying on his chest, glancing up at him, seeing his flushed and disturbed face, awe it was so cute!

He probably felt horrible but you felt amazing, fuck best experience. Putting your arms aside his

"I love you Dad.." you spout into his shirt

"Your Mother can't hear about this B-bunny.." he replies, putting one of arms on your back, you could feel his chest go up and down so cute.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

“Fuck and kiss you...at the same time-!” . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

synopsis: NSFW headcannons of being Wanderers s/o.

tags: mentions of cum, riding, vision!play, semi-public, VISUALS (twt videos), vulgar, explicit

wrd cnt: 0.4k

a/n: this was an ask i was too quick to whip up

To quote the wise words from @astarionapologist , “dude would be the type to accidentally cum in his pants mid make out secession. He’s such a little loser he’d probably get hard if you held him for long enough.”

And you’d probably be his first too, which makes everything you do drive him crazy by default. You have way too much power in your hands and he’s incredibly susceptible to all your tricks.

Also, he’s a brat.

He’s definitely a switch, he can top but you didn’t expect him to be such a power bottom.

Imagine riding him, trying your best to keep yourself in a stable pace.

He’s hold your hips so tight as his furred brows and thrown back head yearn for more. He needs you, but the only way he knows to ask is to demand it.

He’d groan loudly, scooting further down as you sit on his cock, “you suck at this” he says, or “you’re moving too slow”.

His desperation for you might even make him use his vision to lift your body up and down with more easier, a cold flow of air caressing your skin as he lets his hands roam around your body to pinch your sensitive nipples, or graze the curve of your spine before he lands a smack on your ass to hear you moan.

…

His name is The Wanderer; intimacy isn’t just in your bedroom nor is it something he wouldn’t want to explore outside its prenotioned limitations.

He’s completely on board with taking you against a tree in Avidya Forest or a balcony overlooking Ardravi river. Though, he’d be much more concerned with the view in front of him at the moment. Be cautious if you’re traveling together taking a commision, it might run a little longer than expected with all the “breaks” you’d take.

Click here for a VISUAL (video).

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

016. kiss cam | smau + written (464 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

“Do you like it so far?” Heeseung asked as he and Y/n both took their seats next to each other, coming back from the concession stands. “Yeah, I’ve never been before so it’s a new experience.” Y/n nodded her head. “Yo, Y/n can I get a sip.” Sunghoon patted the girl's shoulder, he was in the seat behind her.

“Hoon, I told you to get a drink. Leave her alone.” Heeseung scoffed. “It’s fine, he can have it, I'll just share with you.” Y/n chuckled, handing her soda cup to the boy behind her. “Thank you, Y/n.” Sunghoon said before taking a sip.

“We got pretty good seats,” Karina said as she looked at the arena, being able to see the whole field. “Surprised we were able to get them so late.” She hummed.

“Ooh! They’re doing kiss cam!” Winter exclaimed as she pointed at the big screen. The group watched as couples were shown on kiss cam. It was cute, what they didn’t expect next was for Heeseung and Karina to be shown next.

“Oh!” Karina gasped, quickly realizing she was now on the screen for thousands to see. “Noooo!” The two shook their heads and made x’s with their hands. The crowd booed them.

“Sunghoon bet this would happen.” Heeseung laughed as he turned to Y/n. “It’s kiss cam! You should’ve kissed.” Y/n teased, poking at the boy's shoulder.

The camera operator saw the two laughing and decided to put the camera back onto Heeseung but this time with Y/n in the frame.

“Yo! Yo! Yo!” Jake was excitedly patting Heeseungs shoulders from behind. “Y/n, it's a kiss cam you have to kiss!” Sunghoon teased her with her own saying.

“You don’t have to.” Heeseung chuckled. “Really we don’t have—.” Y/n cut Heeseung off, kissing him on the cheek a little too close to his mouth. He was frozen for a second then realizing what just happened, he really didn’t mean to but he just had to kiss her again…so he did…but on the lips.

Their friends along with the crowd around them were blowing whistles and cheering. “Okay cut it out!” Sunghoon shoved them apart with his hands after witnessing Heeseung turn the simple kiss into a french kiss.

“Ah—shit, sorry Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Heeseung bit his lip in distress, upset that he let his urges get the best of him. “I kissed you first, it’s okay.” Y/n chuckled, “Yeah, but then I kissed you again and it wasn’t even just a peck...I’m sorry.” Heeseung sighed.

Y/n leaned into the boy so he could hear her better. “I liked it, don’t be sorry.” Y/n says, purposefully making sure he’s the only one that hears it.

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